Say It If It's Worth Saving Me
by The lunatic who cares
Summary: Come, please, I'm callin', And all I need is you. Hurry I'm falling.' Set G1. One of Jazz's missions goes awry and he learns what it means to be at Megatron's mercy. Will the Prowl & the Autobots save him in time? Continuation of Ain't That A Kick...
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1  
Disclaimer:** Transformers isn't mine, it belongs to Hasbro the lucky bastards.  
**Author's Note:** This story occurs several months down the line from my fic 'Ain't That A Kick In The Head', but it's not necessary to read that first. If you don't want to then, basically, Jazz and Prowl hooked up, but few of the others know about it.  
Songs that helped inspire this plot bunny are:- Nickelback - Saving Me, 3 Doors Down - The Game and Changes, Dragonforce - Through Fire And Flames (Guitar Heroes is addictive!).  
My muse is somewhat of a cruel, pain addicted thing, so I apologise now because this isn't going to be pretty or at all nice. Angst, slash and torture warnings ahead.  
My thanks to Werebitch for beta-ing, in double quick time (she knows the woes of job hunting!).

---

Jazz understood patience, timing and planning. He needed patience to wait out the Decepticons, to time that perfect move in and out without being seen. All that took planning and prior knowledge and Jazz had thought - what with Prowl having a hand in these plans, predicting a ninety percent chance of success - that everything would go smoothly.

Getting in had been relatively straightforward, planting the bomb had almost been effortless and the saboteur patted his timed creation where it nestled in place between the computer bank and the experimental weapon. He expected leaving the base to take less time and Jazz knew exactly how long it would take him to get out of the base, if he wasn't delayed. He hadn't been and so when the bomb went off over two minutes early, tearing the area to pieces, including the corridor he'd been sprinting down, Jazz was seriously miffed. However, the feeling took a rather big back seat when something slammed into his back, sending him head over heels into the nearest wall and into merciful blackness.

Jazz wasn't offline long; pain soon dragged him groaning back to consciousness. His head ached, testament to the fact it had hit the wall first, and his left leg was screaming at him. His entire back throbbed and Jazz really didn't want to online his optics to see what state he was in, but he was alone in the middle of a Decepticon base and they would all be rushing into this area to survey the damage. No one would be coming to help him.

Jazz stared up at the ceiling for a moment, watching the smoke billow, before craning his head down to look at himself. A huge sheet of metal was curled and buckled all around him, pinning him in place from just under his bumper, so he couldn't see what was causing his leg so much pain. Internal sensors told him there was energon line damage, but little else.

First things first, then. Jazz wiggled his right arm free and was glad to see that apart from a few scratches it was in perfect working order. It took seriously more time and effort to get his left arm free and he was conscious of the seconds ticking away. Every moment spent in the base doubled the chances of getting caught and Jazz knew he was high on Megatron's wish list.

Megatron, he was pretty sure, had a 'destined for some personal time' list, and while obviously Optimus was slap bang at the top, he and Prowl were the next two. This wasn't just because they were next in command, but between Prowl's tactics and Jazz being head of Special Ops, they were a rather large thorn in Megatron's side.

With both hands free the Porsche tried to prise the metal up enough to allow him to slide free, but it barely moved an inch. He pushed, shoved, squirmed and kicked at the sheet, to no avail. That little bit of panic was beginning to set in at the back of his processors, and Jazz fought harder, scraping his side against the sharp edge. Pain curled through his body from his back as he jerked away.

The saboteur grunted harshly as he deliberately let the metal dig into his side, giving himself the extra room to get out. Slowly, too slowly, Jazz inched his way free, dragging himself with his arms and pushing when he could with his good leg. The screech of metal against metal sounded horribly loud to Jazz's audios, but not so loud as to drown out the thudding of big feet heading his way.

Jazz froze for a moment, identifying the owner, before redoubling his efforts. Very few 'bots knew that Jazz could match everyone to their own individual footsteps. Each transformer walked differently and then Jazz countered in their weight and size. Those big, heavy monstrosities belonged to one 'con only; Motormaster, and Jazz didn't need Prowl here to tell him the odds of him surviving, injured, versus the Stunticon leader.

By the time the Decepticon was in sight, at the other end of the wrecked corridor, Jazz had everything except the lower half of his damaged leg free.

"You!" a big voice boomed angrily.

Jazz flinched, dropping the edge of the metal straight down onto his leg and failed to completely muffle the cry of pain. The Decepticon roared and powered down the corridor at full speed. Jazz braced himself. This was going to hurt. Motormaster ripped Jazz free of his prison, wrenching his bad leg in the process, and the pain made Jazz feel fuzzy. The black mech held the much smaller Autobot around his shoulders, in both hands, and laughed when Jazz struggled weakly.

"So pathetic. I'm going to enjoy crushing you."

"Won't Megs be pissed if ya do?" Jazz grinned, hiding his fear, a plan forming in his mind in a flash of desperation.

Motormaster growled, shaking Jazz hard,

"Never said I would kill you."

"Megs likes doin' that 'imself."

"Shut up! I said shut up!"

Jazz murmured something softly and Motormaster dragged him forward, glaring, "What was that?"

Jazz lashed out, one foot aimed for his head, the other for a transformation seam and wincing as pain lanced up his bad leg on contact. Motormaster dropped him like a lump of lead, howling in pain. Jazz collapsed back onto his aft when his bad leg hit the floor first but was instantly scrambling upright again, heading in the opposite direction to Motormaster. He limped badly, bad leg refusing to take his weight, but he pushed the pain away. Getting out was the single focus of Jazz's life and he ran.

Motormaster wasn't long in coming after him, bellowing and cursing and generally letting the whole world know where Jazz was. The saboteur was out of the area of destruction by the time he saw another Decepticon, but Jazz's luck wasn't getting any better because Thundercracker stepped out of a room, into the corridor, right in front of him.

He saw the blue seeker stiffen in surprise and Jazz ran with it, pushing himself a little faster to tackle the bigger mech around the middle. They ploughed into the ground, Thundercracker on the bottom. Jazz laid a solid punch into the Decepticon's face before clambering over him, but Thundercracker wasn't stunned enough to just let an enemy escape. He caught hold of a leg as it disappeared over his head and pulled sharply.

Jazz collapsed down onto his chest with a cry of pain as Thundercracker wrenched his bad leg back. Rolling onto his side, he kicked at the seeker with his free foot, catching the edge of the canopy and cracking the glass. Thundercracker released his grip with a hiss of pain, but it was too late. Motormaster had caught up and Jazz never even made it back upright before a huge foot connected with his middle hard enough to send him hurtling back into a wall.

He bounced off it with a resounding crash and hit the floor with a yelp. Motormaster cackled at him before hauling him off the floor to smash him into the same wall. Pain seared through him as his back took all the abuse and his windshield cracked more. He cried out again when a fist ploughed into his side and braced himself for more blows, but they didn't come. Thundercracker was holding the fist Motormaster had raised to hit Jazz again.

"Let go, fly-boy!"

"You know the rules," Thundercracker wasn't intimidated by the black mech. "If he can't talk when Megatron sees him, you'll regret it."

Motormaster grunted, still wanting to hurt Jazz, but apparently sense won out - for once - and he dropped Jazz to the floor, where the Autobot promptly collapsed. The Stunticon grabbed his bad leg with one hand and set off up the corridor, dragging Jazz behind him, Thundercracker following them both. Pain swamped the Porsche, making everything blur, and the journey to wherever Megatron was passed without meaning. It wasn't until he was thrown forward, chest connecting with the floor first, this time, that Jazz paid any heed to his surroundings.

"Motormaster and I brought you a present, Megatron," Thundercracker's voice sounded out from somewhere above him.

A chuckle, followed by two grey feet appearing in his line of sight, confirmed Jazz's worst fears and he kept his head down. As much as he would love to mouth off at the Decepticon leader, the smallest mech in the room had to minimise the damage coming his way. He had to be fit enough to take any opportunity to escape.

As Jazz was dragged off the floor once more, coming face to face with Megatron, he had one very clear thought. Prowl would be reporting that Jazz was late in returning from his mission and he would already be considering how to rescue him. Prowl would come for him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2  
Author's Notes: **Thanks to all those that have reviewed and put this story on alert. *hands out cookies* Thanks to Werebitch for speed-beta-ering again, especially since you don't even like TF.  
This chapter has to start the warnings I suppose. Torture ahead, only mild, so far....

-

Jazz crawled on his hands and knees to the back of the cell, where he collapsed onto his side. As he lay looking at the wall, his thoughts wandered; he wasn't supposed to be scared of anything, that was the face he always showed the world. Happy and willing to try anything, always stepping forward when no one else would, but now… Now he didn't know where he was.

The black and white mech wished he could move, to explore his cell, to find a way out, but he was exhausted, in pain and running low on energon. He had been coldly searched and stripped of all his weapons and tools, so there was little point in really trying. Soundwave had disabled his communication system, so he couldn't contact the other Autobots.

As Jazz lay there he could feel the lethargy creeping up on him, willing him to drop into recharge, and he fought against it. He knew his body needed the rest to try and recover, but it would place him in more danger. Decepticons could surprise him as he slept and Jazz would have no time to prepare himself for whatever was coming. It could also make him miss an opportunity for escape.

Perhaps, though, recharge now would be better than another time. Megatron had finished with him for now, Soundwave was on reconnaissance so wouldn't be around to start his interrogation and the others… Jazz shook his head. They could still come and try something.

A thought occurred to the saboteur then. Thundercracker had implied that, whilst they could hurt him, they weren't allowed to damage him too badly because Megatron wanted that pleasure, so, maybe now was the best time to recharge. That line of thinking was all it took for Jazz's recharge programme to boot up and send him into a blissful, dark sleep.

-

"Get up, loser!" A hard voice barked and Jazz shot upright, systems crashing on, filling him with briefly-forgotten aches and pains. He winced as his visor was flooded with light; someone was shining a bright beam right in his face and he had to partially power his visor down to stop himself turning his head away. The light from the beam blacked out the 'con holding it, but by the silhouette Jazz guessed it was Astrotrain.

"I said, get up!"

Jazz climbed to his feet, using the wall behind him for balance when his bad leg refused to work properly in its haze of pain. Astrotrain had lowered the torch slightly, enough for Jazz to see Soundwave standing beside him, beyond the bars of his cell. A shiver ran up Jazz's back and he began running a distraction programme through his CPU; designed to keep intruders like Soundwave from easily finding any information, it was given to all Special Ops in training.

The energy bars disappeared when Astrotrain disengaged the lock on the cell and Jazz braced himself when Astrotrain stomped into the tiny area to tower over him. The purple Decepticon grabbed one of Jazz's shoulders and wheeled him around, feet barely dragging over the floor, so he was facing the door before he was propelled out of the cell. The saboteur stumbled but somehow managed to keep his balance, his injured leg hurting but bearable. Astrotrain caught one wrist to twist it up behind his back, slapping cuffs on; Jazz's other wrist soon joined it.

"Walk," Astrotrain gave Jazz a push.

Jazz held in the snappy comeback and did as he was directed, following Soundwave out of the cell block and hobbling up the corridor after him. Astrotrain trod right at his heels, close enough that Jazz could feel the heat off his chassis and he fought down the shudder. Instead he concentrated on counting the doors from the cell block to wherever it was they were heading. It was long enough that he was feeling faint and unsteady by the time they got there.

Soundwave abruptly turned from the corridor into an open doorway and the triple changer didn't give Jazz enough time to even turn, just shoved him sideways through the door. Jazz stumbled, his balance shot with his hands bound and leg damaged, and went down onto one knee before he could stop himself. He heard the door slide shut behind him and raised his head to look around the room. Soundwave was standing off to one side and Megatron was relaxing in a chair not far from him.

Gritting his denta, Jazz forced himself to his feet, optics never leaving the Decepticon leader, and carefully took a few steps to one side so his back wasn't at the open door. He remained perfectly quiet, assessing the room and its occupants and subtly testing the strength of the bonds holding his wrists. With his current energy levels he wasn't going to try escaping and he couldn't free himself, so the saboteur accepted he was going to be playing the long game here.

"So this is where our little problem came from then?" Megatron mused out loud.

Jazz refrained from pointing out that he knew that the hole he'd blown in the base was far from little. Soundwave also remained quiet, apparently accepting Megatron's question as rhetorical.

"How many times is this then, Soundwave?"

"Successful sabotage attempts: twenty seven. Failed attempts: eleven. Captured: once."

"All from him?" Megatron sounded disgusted.

"Ya flatter meh," Jazz replied, wondering how he knew.

"Yes, you have been rather annoying to the Decepticon cause, but now you're a _guest_ here, I'm sure we can rectify that," Megatron smiled briefly.

Jazz let out a small snort,

"Ya want meh t' talk 'bout what I was doin' here?"

"No, no," Megatron waved his hand dismissively. "That is blatantly obvious; we don't need your confession of guilt over that."

Jazz was glad that his visor hid his glare and that his training covered hiding emotions. Megatron shifted in his seat before getting up, heading for the door and as he left the room his voice drifted back over his shoulder.

"I'm sure Soundwave will explain."

Jazz turned his head to look at his silent interrogator. Soundwave regarded him steadily before stating,

"Verschärfte Vernehmung."

Jazz's CPU automatically ran a translation programme, deducing it was the Earth language German and then its meaning. He distinctly did not like the answer he got from the programme, especially when it brought up connections to one of the earth's world wars.

"Since when did ya start usin' Earth languages?"

"All information can be useful," Soundwave replied.

"That didn't explain anythin'," Jazz retorted.

"Captive's intelligence: high. Explanation: pointless."

Jazz watched the cassette player turn to a machine behind him, fingers moving precisely over the keys and knew what Soundwave had said was very true. Anything the Decepticon did could be clues for Jazz about what was to come and in a contest of wills and ingenuity against Soundwave, the Autobot would need every detailed scrap of data.

Whilst he waited Jazz checked the distraction programme he was running and then his firewalls. He rerouted power supplies, reducing the energon flow to certain less important systems so his CPU could remain sharp and focused. When he had done that, the saboteur surreptitiously examined his damaged leg. From the outside it looked twisted from knee downwards, so his foot pointed slightly outwards from where it should be, and that meant internal strut damage. From the lack of sensation, except pain, sensors and lines were also damaged, probably crushed.

Soundwave abruptly finished what he was doing and turned back to his captive. The Autobot was regarded him with a carefully neutral expression and his visor hid any emotion there may have been lingering in his optics. Jazz wondered if Soundwave understood that. He would have reviewed all the information he had on Jazz, calculating what force he would need to break through Jazz's defenses, knowing it wouldn't be easy, but it would be worth the effort. Soundwave would know the Decepticons had never had such a high ranking officer in their possession before and for Jazz to be both head of Special Operations and third in command was unprecedented.

Normally those in Special Operations were never given a high rank because their dangerous missions put them at higher risk. They knew too much, but Jazz was special. He had to be, to have risen so far. Similar to Soundwave himself, but then again the Decepticons worked a little differently. Soundwave's unwavering loyalty to Megatron, along with his telepathic abilities, had got him where he was today.

"Step forward." Soundwave gestured to a spot on the floor between them with a solid steel ring embedded in it.

Jazz looked down at the innocuous object and then back up,

"Ya expect meh t' co-operate?"

"Co-operation not expected," Soundwave intoned.

"Got that right," Jazz muttered.

"Prisoner will comply," Soundwave took two steps forward and Jazz weighed up his options. Keep his distance from Soundwave and prolong the inevitable that would come eventually or just let Soundwave get on with whatever he was going to do to try and break into Jazz's CPU. If the saboteur thought that rescue would be right around the corner then he would have fought every inch of the way, but Jazz wasn't expecting instantaneous help from his comrades. Even if Prowl loved him, the tactician had the others to think of first. Putting more lives in danger to save one was a risky strategy and not one Prowl would willingly take without a lot of planning.

In the end Jazz stood still and only moved when Soundwave forced him to. He ended up kneeling, not pleasant with his leg, and hands bound by a chain to the ring in the floor behind him. The Decepticon then forced one of the covers off a jacking in port and linked him up with the computer. Jazz ran a quick scan of the terminal to find it wasn't attached to any of the other Decepticon systems. Soundwave wasn't taking any chances of Jazz downloading any of their information.

The Decepticon sat down in front of the terminal and Jazz felt a programme being initiated. He could feel it probing his firewalls, look for weakness and flaws. A simple test programme then and Jazz set to work, not touching his firewalls, trusting them to be secure, but feeding the programme false information. Just little hints of some larger problem, all designed to throw Soundwave off, to make him look somewhere else. Jazz knew every firewall had its weakness; his was no exception, but he also knew the best way to hide any possibility was to offer up something more tempting.

For hours they played this game, Jazz darting around and Soundwave resolutely following, until the sound of laughter in the corridor outside made them pause. Soundwave looked up, expressionless as usual, though Jazz thought he could detect annoyance in the Decepticon's countenance as the door slid open. In sauntered Starscream, Skywarp, Blitzwing and Astrotrain, all with smirks on their faces. Jazz's spark sank. This wasn't looking good for him.

"Interrogation unfinished," Soundwave turned to face the newcomers. "Interruption unwelcome."

"Ah, c'mon Soundwave," Skywarp grinned. "We came to help."

"Yeah, can't have you having all the fun, now can we?" Blitzwing patted Jazz on the head as he strode past.

Jazz hid the wince. It wasn't so much a pat as a solid thwack and he turned his optics to Soundwave to watch for his response.

"No fun," Soundwave folded his arms over his chest.

"Then you're doing it wrong," Starscream exclaimed and Soundwave stared at the Air Commander, unspeaking but not backing down. Starscream pulled something metal out of a subspace pocket and presented it with a flourish to Jazz. The saboteur quickly understood its purpose and his hands clenched into fists behind him.

"Megatron informed of interruption," Soundwave intoned, almost with warning.

"Pah, so what? Tell Megabum if you want," Starscream waved a hand at the Communications Officer. "We're here to pass a little time so frag off if all you're going to do is spoil it."

Jazz almost didn't want Soundwave to go, not and leave him with four of the worst bullies in the Decepticon ranks. Not when Starscream proposed to use that. Soundwave looked the whole group over, loosely ringed around Jazz, before turning on his heel and leaving.

"Shut the door on your way out!" Skywarp called after him.

As soon as he realised Soundwave was leaving all Jazz's attention focused on the item in Starscream's hand and when the Decepticon brought it towards his head, he reared back as much as he was able in his restraints. He knew he couldn't stop them putting it on him, but he was going to delay the inevitable for as long as he could. Starscream chased his moving head for a while, screeching his irritation when Jazz refused to co-operate until Astrotrain laughed and stomped up behind Jazz.

"Come here you glitch."

Two large hands grabbed either side of Jazz's helm and held him in a squeezing grip. Starscream smirked and raised the metal plate, sliding it along both sides of his head, level with his visor before snapping it closed around the back of his helm. It completely covered his visor and blocked Jazz's vision. The Autobot rapidly cycled through all of his visual settings, to find none could penetrate the blindfold, plunging him into darkness.

"Now then," Starscream commented. "That looks much better."

Skywarp sniggered,

"Yeah and let's make this more interesting!"

Jazz could feel someone messing around with the chains holding him to the floor until something snicked free and he could move his arms. His wrists were still bound together with the cuffs, but he wasn't tied to anything now. Warily he climbed to his feet, listening to the silence around him, only punctuated by the other mechs' systems. When nothing happened, Jazz took a few steps to the side where he knew no 'con to be and tauntingly heard Blitzwing chant,

"Run little glitch-mouse, run, run, run. Here come the Decepticons with their guns, guns, guns."

Jazz had time to think _'slag'_ before he heard Starscream power up his null-ray and he sidestepped away, trying to put at least one Decepticon between him and everyone else. It turned into a complicated game of dodge and chase, with a few of his playmates getting shot in the process. By the time Skywarp shot Starscream up the aft, Jazz was shaking with the effort to remain upright on his bad leg and his intakes were wheezing.

"Enough!" Starscream shrieked, hand clamped over his stinging aft plates.

Astrotrain was nursing a burnt arm and scowling away, Blitzwing was currently sitting on the floor looking vaguely confused and Skywarp was pulling a face at Starscream. The Air Commander stormed up to Jazz, grabbed an arm and hauled him back to his spot on the floor before hooking him back up to his chain. All four Decepticons filed out, Blitzwing taking one last kick at his bad leg as a parting gift. Jazz sank into a weary slump after they left, feeling every ache in his body, more so because he was still blind to the world.

For nearly a joor he sat alone, internally watching his energon levels drop into critical and wondered if he'd pass out before or after someone came for him. He hadn't expected to be refuelled as much as he needed but now it was pushing into danger territory, at the point where he risked permanent damage. Whilst in some ways that would be better, if he did just slip into unconsciousness and never woke up because the information he carried would not be accessible, but Jazz wasn't willing to die quite yet.

It was Soundwave who came for him in the end, energon with him. He forced Jazz to take the energon, pushing his levels back up to acceptable levels before starting all over again, making the Autobot grateful for the snatched recharge he'd managed before. He knew what was happening: Verschärfte Vernehmung was German for enhanced interrogation and a favoured method of the Nazi Gestapo in the human World War II. Soundwave had simply found a name for his preferred method of interrogation.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3  
Author's Notes:** I'm sorry this has been so long in coming. It's been mostly written and beta-ed, for a while now, but I wasn't happy with the end (or the whole thing really), and hid, over on DA, from dealing with it. Well, whatever my bad reasons, here is the next chapter, enjoy, don't kill me. Prowl demanded some more screen time, I think just to stop me toturing Jazz... Chapter 4 is mostly written, but in bits that I have to decide on how to fit together. Bloody bunny is not helping me. Anyone want to bribe the bunny into behaving?

-

Prowl lay looking at the ceiling above his berth with distracted optics. He could have blamed his overworked battle computer, still running rescue scenarios for Jazz as it had been since Jazz had not come back on time; as it had been since Mirage had slipped into the base to confirm Jazz's capture. The spy had not returned yet and it had been to dangerous for Mirage to try to infiltrate the base. Prowl had given him strict orders not to try to release Jazz by himself, but even so Prowl knew the blue and white mech would blame himself for not doing so. It was simply too great a risk for Mirage.

Prowl could have blamed the fact that he was lying on his back, making his door wings ache, but in reality it was because Jazz was not here. For some time Jazz had been slipping into his quarters to recharge, even if Prowl himself was not there. Often they would recharge together without seeing each other awake, but Prowl had not realised how much he missed the company and warmth of his berth mate until he was gone.

Prowl sighed as he dismissed yet another scenario. Most he had run had too higher risk factor and, even with his feelings for Jazz, Prowl could not risk losing others to save him. Many lives for one was not conducive to winning the war and, despite Jazz's skills and rank, he wasn't as valuable in some regards as some of the other members of the Autobots. No one could replace the Twins on the frontline, or Mirage's ability to vanish, or Trailbreaker's forcefield. Prowl remembered the time when that one gift had saved them all from burning alive in the earth's sun. Jazz was good, the best, but he could not win the war by himself.

Prowl wondered, briefly, how long he could keep running his battle computer and not recharge before he collapsed or Ratchet noticed. Optimus had already ordered him to rest or he would tell Ratchet and Prowl knew the CMO would have no qualms about knocking him offline. He had come to his quarters in the pretence of recharging but knew, as he stared at the ceiling, that he would get no rest tonight. The black and white mech wondered if Jazz would.

-

Jazz leaned against the wall in his darkened cell, exhausted, but glad, beyond belief, that Soundwave had finished with him for the time being. The combination of his probing and the 'game' the others had put him through had really worn him down. The energon Soundwave had forced down him was nearly all gone again and a dimmed visor glanced up at the door in speculation. He knew that he wouldn't get refuelled as much as he needed, or as much recharge as he needed, both a combination designed to exhaust and wear him down. Jazz slipped into recharge without thought or protest, following his body's demands, wondering briefly whether Prowl had come up with a plan yet.

Days came, went and blurred together as Jazz fell into the harsh routine, surviving his way through interrogation and torture. Time with Soundwave was just as exhaustive as the physical abuse the other Decepticons put him through, but it turned into a sort of relief because he didn't have to watch for a fist or foot coming is way on top of everything else.

He'd overheard enough of a conversation to know Megatron was losing patience with Soundwave's lack of progress and Jazz knew for slagging sure he didn't want Megatron joining his subordinates in his interrogation. Every 'con had a reputation of some sorts but it was only rumours that ever made it out to the audios of the Autobots about what Megatron was like once he started on a captive. No one had ever come back from such an experience, no one able to talk.

The Autobot was back in his cell again, staring blankly at the grey walls, absent-mindedly fingering his abdominal plating, counting the number of cracks on it from today's fun and games. His leg didn't hurt so badly now. He hadn't felt it properly in a while now and Jazz wondered if he should be worried, but he just didn't seem to have the energy to care anymore. Everything was about keeping himself alive and his information safe from enemy hands.

The door to the brig hissed open and Jazz watched Blitzwing stomp into the room. He looked disgusted to be there and Jazz soon guessed why when he spied the flash of pink in one hand. The triple-changer keyed open the cell, energy bars disappearing, and smirked at Jazz, clearly enjoying the sight of a beaten Autobot.

"Want your energon scum?" Blitzwing taunted, holding the cube out, just beyond Jazz's reach.

Jazz did want it, badly, but asking for it achieved only scorn and reaching for it normally got him beaten, so he did nothing, just watched the triple-changer wave the cube around. Apparently being unresponsive just ticked Blitzwing off and the Decepticon straightened up, scoffing.

"You are pathetic and, you know, pathetic scum doesn't deserve energon, but, since I was ordered to give you this, I suppose I must."

Blitzwing dropped the cube to the floor where it bounced, over turning and spilling its contents across the cell floor in a bright stain of pink. The Decepticon laughed, turned on his heel and marched out, slapping the cell bars back on as he did so. Jazz crawled to the edge of the seeping puddle and, awash with shame, lowered his face to the floor to lick what he could off the floor. The energon was low quality anyway, but like this it tasted of dirt and, faintly, of his own spilled energon. Somewhere in the back of his processor he could vaguely recall what real energon had tasted like, back in the Ark…

"…and it's like nobody here is willin' to do any…"

"Ironhide, sit down," Optimus ordered softly. "We all feel the same way."

The red mech paused, mid sentence, before slumping back down in his seat,

"It's just not slaggin' fair, Optimus."

The Prime nodded,

"Fair or not, it's still the truth and we can't rush into this half-cocked, risking more lives in the process. If Jazz were here, you know he'd veto that idea."

"But he ain't," Ironhide muttered. "And that's the problem."

Silence met that remark, because everyone knew it was true. Jazz was their optimism, more than they realised, until he'd not come back from his mission. Their third in command was full of workable, clever ideas and everyone was noticing his loss. Ratchet had pointed out that moral was down, badly, not that anyone needed telling and Prowl had kept quiet about the number of times somebot had confronted him about not rescued Jazz by now.

The command staff and all members of the Special Ops team, bar Jazz and Mirage, were seated around meeting table, trying to hash out a plan to retrieve Jazz. It wasn't going well. Prowl was morose and tired, all plans he had thought of were too big a risk and he'd spiralled into a quiet depression. Ironhide had taken to shouting at everyone, even though that generally made matters worse. Red Alert had grown even more paranoid, convinced Jazz would break under the pressure they all knew he'd be under, and give away all their secrets.

A chime from the door gathered everyone's attention and Optimus hid a sigh, wishing that he could have had the report coming in privacy.

"Mirage, come in."

The door slid open and the white and blue spy stepped into the room, resisting the urge to disappear again as he felt all optics land on him, scrutinising him. He walked around the table until he came to an empty seat, one of only two left, and sat down. Mirage couldn't help but glance up the table to the last remaining seat. Jazz's seat. One that nobody would sit in, because Jazz would come back…

"Come on then," Ironhide snapped. "Out with it."

"The Decepticons have upped their security," Mirage started. "It took me much longer to infiltrate the base than it has ever before and even then, I couldn't get into the brig area…"

Ironhide interrupted,

"You didn't try hard enough!"

"Ironhide!" Optimus said sharply and the weapons specialist subsided unhappily.

Mirage looked despondently down at his clasped hands on the table top as he continued,

"I never saw Jazz, but I heard enough from the 'Cons to know he was there. They laugh about him, about what they do to him. Maybe Ironhide is right. Maybe I should have tried harder to get to him. Maybe he wouldn't be there now if I had…"

"Mirage," Prowl stirred into life, holding up a hand to still the spy's words. "Even if you had managed to free Jazz from his holding cell, can you make both of you disappear?"

Mirage mutely shook his head.

"Would you have been able to escape, visible and, in all probability, with Jazz injured?"

Mirage shook his head again, knowing the truth, but hating it all the same. Prowl nodded,

"That's why I never suggested you should undertake a rescue by yourself, just the reconnaissance. It wasn't a viable plan."

"Then what is!" Ironhide slammed his hands down on the table, anger directed at the SIC opposite him. "You say nothing would work but how do we know unless we try! You sit there, doing _nothing_ and all the while Jazz is in those slagging 'Cons hands!" He turned to Optimus. "Let me take a team in, Prime. We'll blow the base to bits, get Jazz back."

Optimus had listened to this outburst many times over the past few days and his optics glanced to Prowl, who shook his head, apparently not perturbed by Ironhide's insubordinate behaviour.

"The probability of such a direct assault working are less than fifty…"

"Don't give me your fragging numbers again!" the red mech shot to his feet, hands clenched at his side.

"Stop this!" Bumblebee suddenly spoke up, drawing everyone's attention. "Stop it! Why are we fighting? We all want Jazz back but this won't help him. We're here to find a way of getting him back, not to rip holes in each other."

"Thank you Bumblebee," Optimus nodded his thanks at the mini-bot before turning back to Ironhide, who was glaring at the tabletop. "I know you're frustrated, angry at this lack of progress, but you do understand why don't you? Would you be the one to tell Jazz that we got him back at the loss of someone? Could you tell him Bluestreak gave his life for him?"

"Optimus," Ironhide shot his leader a look, knowing mentioning the young gunner's name was a low blow. "There will come a point when even Jazz, for all his reputation, will break or die." A lot of the mechs in the room shifted uncomfortably at this bleak truth. "If that time comes, you'd risk even less to get him back."

Ironhide sat back down heavily, refusing to meet anyone's optics and silence hung like a choking cloud in the room. Optimus spoke heavily into it,

"I could start up negotiations with Megatron."

"No," Prowl shook his head. "Megatron hasn't contacted us with demands. Contacting him would put us on the back foot, even more than we already are, and could put Jazz in even more of a precarious position than he is. Megatron would assume that there is something particularly pressing that Jazz knows, information we don't want him to get hold of."

"He has plenty of that already!" Red Alert protested. "More changes need to be made to security to avoid any breaches from the Decepticons!"

"Red Alert, please, you have made enough changes for the current time. If you make any more you'll be in danger of locking us out of our own quarters," Optimus gently warned the security director to back down a little.

"This meeting is a waste of time," Ironhide muttered sourly.

"Maybe we should take a break then," Blaster suggested cautiously. "Get refuelled then come back and try again?"

"That is a good idea. Thank you Blaster," Optimus nodded. "Meeting adjourned. Take a cycle to get some energon and then I'll see you all back here. Understood?"

A chorus of less than enthusiastic agreement sounded before 'bots trailed out the room. Optimus stood and made his way around where Prowl still sat, optics and door wings downcast, and laid a hand on his SIC's shoulder.

"You too Prowl."

Prowl nodded,

"Yes sir."

"We will think of something."

The black and white looked up then, optics meeting Optimus', full of sad acceptance,

"Save those words for the others. You and I are fully aware of what the probable outcome of this will be."

Optimus' hand tightened on the white shoulder,

"I'm not ready to give up on him, not yet and not for a long time."

"I'm not giving up on Jazz, far from it. I'm just trying to be realistic," Prowl dropped his optics back down again.

"Prowl… I know how you feel for Jazz…"

The tactician's head snapped up, showing Optimus a startled expression before he covered it with neutral blank. Optimus continued,

"I don't expect you to bury your feelings. Talk to me."

Prowl jerkily shook his head,

"I don't need to talk."

"When you do then."

Prowl hesitated and then nodded faintly. Optimus knew that was the best answer he would get from his reticent second in command and quietly left the room, leaving Prowl to his own thoughts. The black and white mech sat in silence for a while before whispering,

"Jazz, what am I to do? I can't lose you. I couldn't stand it… but I can't lose anyone else. Every time I looked at you, I'd see their death at my hands, from my plans. Why Jazz? _Why_ can't I see a way out of this?"

The distraught mech buried his face in his hands and that was how Optimus found him a breem or so later. The red mech did nothing but pull a chair alongside and wrap an arm around Prowl's shoulders, offering silent comfort. Prowl said and did nothing to show he appreciated his commander's gesture, but Optimus knew it was welcome by the simple fact he hadn't been pushed away.

By the time the others came back, Prowl had gathered himself together and was finishing the cube of energon Optimus had brought him. When everyone was seated Prowl looked around the room and asked,

"Any suggestions?"

-

Jazz stared up at the ceiling, feeling distracted and something was nagging at the back of his CPU. His firewalls pinged again and automatically Jazz changed coding to prevent the adaptive virus from breaking through, before his mind wandered again. He wondered why it was grey in here when the rest of the Nemesis was purple. Maybe they had run out of paint. He should ask.

As if in answer to his meaningless ponderings the door to the brig hissed open to admit Soundwave and Megatron. Jazz paid little heed to them. Perhaps he should have been worried about that but the colour of his ceiling seemed to be a more pressing concern.

"Why's it grey in 'ere?"

Soundwave didn't show any sign of having heard him but Megatron frowned and glanced at his communications officer. Soundwave was forced to explain,

"Attempt to break firewalls with virus. Attention corrupted."

"Is it working?" Megatron glared at the docile prisoner.

"Unsure. Prisoner highly resistant."

"Break him Soundwave," Megatron ordered. "Or I will be forced to 'help' you and you will take the blame if his data is too corrupted to retrieve."

Soundwave nodded, knowing full well that would be the threat. Whether Megatron would follow through was debatable. Normally Soundwave could deflect the rage elsewhere and remain remarkably unscathed from his leader's temper.

The Decepticon commander stalked to the front of the cell, dismissed the bars to stand over Jazz, hands on hips and a slightly disgusted look on his face. Soundwave stood just outside the cell watching with no visible reaction or expression.

"Why's it grey in 'ere?" Jazz asked again.

"Because I said so," Megatron retorted.

Jazz nodded vaguely. Well at least there was a reason. Megatron seemed to consider Jazz state of mind and crouched down next to him, watching for any reaction. There was no real indication of Jazz caring about his temporary cell companion so Megatron decided to try a new tact.

"Would you answer my questions now?"

Jazz turned to look at the grey mech beside him, frowning slightly, as if he didn't understand the question, before he gestured expansively at the walls.

"Missin' summat 'ere. Lacks summat."

"You can anything you like," Megatron coaxed, in an all too pleasant voice. "Energon, a medic... a decorator…" The last suggestion was spoken like Megatron had a bad taste in his mouth

Jazz shook his head. They all sounded so nice, but that wasn't what he wanted. He wanted… he wanted…

"Prowl."

Prowl. He wanted Prowl. Somewhere down inside he was aware that he shouldn't have said that out loud but he was tired and all he lived, dreamed was pain. Were his answers even important anymore?

"Prowl?" Megatron repeated, puzzled by the prisoner's answer.

"Prowl," Soundwave confirmed. "Autobot second in command."

"Why him?"

"Unsure," Soundwave stared down at the prisoner he was, as yet, unable to break. Soundwave admired the Autobot for lasting this long and it was testing Soundwave's ingenuity and patience to a such a level he hadn't had to go to for a long time. It was also taxing his ability to keep Jazz alive. A dead prisoner was of little use and he would certainly be that if any other Decepticon really had a go at him. Soundwave had so far managed to keep the level of violence from the other Decepticons to a minimum, but Jazz wasn't just a thorn in Megatron's side and his presence on the base was a temptation no one would be able to resist for long, regardless of orders.

"Find out why Soundwave," Megatron suddenly decided. "This could be the key to breaking him and I want that information."

"Suggestion: contact Autobots."

"And why would I do that Soundwave?" Megatron glared at his subordinate.

"Reaction to Prowl: advantageous," Soundwave explained.

Megatron seemed to consider the proposal, first studying Soundwave and then Jazz before snapping,

"I am loathed to contact Prime. Seeing him alive will give them hope and that is a disgusting notion. If you cannot prise what I want from him, by whatever means, in three days then I will reassess your suggestion."

With that Megatron left Soundwave alone with their lone prisoner. The communications officer remained silent, watching the Autobot gazing around his cell with little interest.

"Suspect three days is not enough time. Suspect Megatron will take matters into his own hands. Suspect prisoner will regret such actions."

Jazz heard, understood and feared.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4  
Author's Notes:** There you go. Told you I was nearly done. Was that quick enough for you Rae? I also got bored enough to do some art work to go with this chapter.... Though I would suggest looking at it afterwards, if you don't want spoilers. For those of you on DA, er sorry I've already spoiled it! http:// codenameeternity .deviantart .com/art/Jazz-Savin-Me-109698799 (Take those spaces out, eats links otherwise)

Soundwave had been right. As much as Jazz didn't want Megatron to get involved, he couldn't just cough up the information they wanted, so he had endured and now his three days were up. Megatron had done as he had said he would and, yet again, dismissed the notion of contacting the Autobots for something a lot more enjoyable - for _him_.

With the cold metal shield in place over his face the Autobot was blind. His world was black and his other senses strained in protest, making him shake. He could pretend, perhaps, it was the only reason tremors ran through him, and that it was nothing to do with fear. Nothing to do with the fact he couldn't tell where his next painful experience was coming from, so had no time to prepare. Soundwave had suddenly taken a liking to sensory deprivation and to a 'bot as sensitive as Jazz, it was hitting all the wrong notes.

Jazz could feel the chains cutting into his arms, wrists and legs, holding him so he couldn't move, even a little. It was another way to take away the illusion of any freedom he might have had and added to his feeling of breaking under all the pressure. He prayed, every interrogation session, he would make it through all these different terrors.

The sound of laughter, evil to its core, seemed to fall around Jazz, echoing in the room. Jazz could work out the size and shape of the room from the bounce back of sound. He already knew who was present, no one bothered to try and disguise themselves. Once it had even been amusing, a game for them, to make Jazz guess, but then it had been more a case of cat and mouse, blind mouse.

This wasn't the first time Jazz had been forced to wear the mask, but before he'd been allowed the freedom of his legs. With his arms bound behind him Jazz had dodged the blows as well as he could, striving to remain one step ahead of his tormentors, but apparently that game had worn thin. Now he'd have to learn new rules.

A hand clipped the tip of one horn and Jazz flinched away from it, turning his head to where he thought the nearest threat was. Megatron only came down to see him if he was in one of two moods; seriously pissed, often because a battle hadn't gone to plan, or when he was in one of his rare pleased moods. Jazz wasn't sure which he preferred. Angry Megatron meant more pain for him but happy Megatron meant mind games.

"You know they're not coming for you."

Jazz clenched his jaw. Mind games it was, then. He'd gone from refusing to answer anything to playing along, still not giving them any useful information, but the questions were never the same. Megatron was surprisingly good at word games, pushing at Jazz's skills to remain one step ahead.

"Prime won't risk the rest of his troops for one Autobot. Being Special Ops and third in command you should know that," Megatron's voice dropped until it was level with Jazz's audio and the black and white mech guessed he was crouched next to him.

"Comin' down t' ma level now?" Jazz sniped, sidestepping the issue, knowing it was true.

"You think you're so smart, don't you?" Megatron sounded less than pleased.

"Know I am," Jazz kept up the cheerful attitude. It riled the Decepticon up the most and normally he couldn't keep his temper. "Wouldn't be Special Ops 'n third in command otherwise, as ya so helpfully pointed out."

Jazz wasn't sure what gave it away; the air movement perhaps, but he successfully dodged a blow to his head. He heard the fist come whistling past his face and sat back, bracing himself for the next blow that always came. The other fist dug into his side, hard and fast, and Jazz grunted, pulling on his chains as he recoiled away.

"Little fragger aren't you?"

A hard hand gripped one arm, pulling him upwards slightly against the chains, and Jazz felt hot air blow onto his face with Megatron's next words, indicating he was face to face with the Decepticon leader.

"I'm going to teach you some manners, little Autobot."

Someone sniggered from the other side of the room and Jazz identified Starscream from the high pitch, before Megatron roughly let go, dropping Jazz back to the floor. Jazz winced as it jarred his bad leg but turned his head to follow Megatron's movements across the floor. He stopped at one side of the room and the proceeded to bang around, puzzling Jazz because he couldn't work out what he was doing. Something for him, that was clear enough, but what?

It was taking a while for Megatron to do what he was doing and the apprehension was building in Jazz. It only got worse when his olfactory sensors told him of burning metal, coming from Megatron's direction. Jazz couldn't stop the start when Starscream suddenly spoke up.

"What's the matter, Autoboob? You've gone all quiet on us."

"No intelligent conversation t' be had," Jazz retorted, that one actually true.

"Why you-!" Starscream screeched.

"Enough, Starscream!" Megatron ordered, slamming something down hard.

Starscream subsided, grumbling, and Jazz listened to the Decepticon leader walk back across the floor towards him. The smell was getting worse and the smallest mech in the room clenched his hands together when they started shaking. Something sizzled as it lazily danced through the air in front of Jazz's face and he could feel the heat of it on his cheeks.

"Stop waving it around," Starscream snapped. "It'll get too cold to work."

"Shut up, Starscream, unless you want me to test it on you first," Megatron growled.

Jazz prayed for the Air Commander to be stupid enough to open his mouth again, but apparently Starscream had some sense of self preservation today because no argument was forthcoming. Megatron spoke into the silence in a thoughtful tone.

"Though, I suppose, Starscream's words do have some merit."

Something swished through the air and Jazz screamed, bucking against his restraints as raw agony tore through his head. A hard hand grabbed his chin, holding his head still, before that heated metal was pressed down against the open stump remains of a horn. Another scream followed on the heels of the other as his helm melted, roughly sealing the edges together over sparking wires.

-

Another hoarse scream of pain echoed faintly across the room and Dead End sighed.

"What's up with you?" Thundercracker asked.

"Do you think Megatron would kill me if I asked for soundproofing?"

Thundercracker tilted his head at the dim noises of pain, just audible over the other mech's voices in the rec room. It was just at that level where you couldn't block it out and, though he wouldn't admit it, the noise was being to grate on the seeker's nerves as well. Why couldn't the Autobot just give in and die?

-

"Useless," Megatron snapped in disgust, throwing his now cold and stained blade away. The prisoner at his feet was slumped forward in his restraints, unconscious and streaked with energon. The smell of burnt metal and energon hung in the air, stinging everyone's olfactory sensors. No one said anything, for fear of Megatron's wrath, but Jazz had held out for over five hours before he had lost consciousness, and a new record stood.

Soundwave could see the rage burning in his leader's ruby optics and remained still, experience telling him not to draw the anger his way. Starscream was also remarkably quiet, not using Megatron's failure to jibe at his leader. What little common sense he had was keeping him mute as the big, grey mech stormed around the room.

"Get him out of my sight," Megatron ordered suddenly and Soundwave moved to unchain Jazz, to take him away. "Starscream!"

The seeker flinched minutely,

"Yes, my lord?"

"Gather the troops together."

"Where are we going?" Starscream tilted his head to one side slightly.

"I'm in need of a little violence," Megatron replied, his optics gleaming.

"One Autobot not enough for one day?" Starscream sneered, his own optics glancing at the body on the floor.

"I'm going to rip Prime's arms off and beat him to death with them!" Megatron bellowed, anger rising.

"Of course, great leader," Starscream nodded smoothly, feet leading him quickly out of the room and the line of fire. Soundwave was not far behind, Jazz slung over one shoulder.

Megatron watched them leave, watched the drip, drip of energon leave its trail across the floor as it leaked from Jazz. The sight of the pink fluid made him both pleased and even more enraged. The Decepticon leader had enjoyed making the Autobot scream and bleed but even through it all, Jazz had never spoken, except to reiterate that he would never break.

A cruel smile spread across the grey face. He would make the little fool regret his actions. If he had no sense to save himself, then he would see what damage Megatron would do to his friends, and if Megatron could get himself another little Autobot toy to play with then Jazz would fold like paper and give them everything they needed to know.

With a plan forming in his CPU, Megatron headed out of the room to inform his troops that they were going to make the Autobots bleed that joor and only a skeleton crew was to be left behind on the submerged Nemesis. Them and Jazz…

The Autobot remained offline for a long time, but the Decepticons had not returned when his HUD crackled into life, dragging him from the peaceful blackness to the screaming world. All the energy Jazz could summon up was just enough to roll from his back to his side, where it hurt a little less, and drag his only working hand to his head. His right hand was limp and hanging at a strange angle from his wrist.

Tentatively his fingers touched the edge of one horn. Sharp, immediate, searing pain shot through his head and Jazz yanked his hand away. Pink stained the tips of his black fingers and he curled his hand into a fist briefly before air sighed out of his intakes and his world faded.

In a moment of rare clarity, Jazz knew he didn't have long left before he faded completely. If he would let his information go before that, he didn't know, but he was falling into darkness more and more often now. He held onto the hope of rescue still, but it was almost that wish you prayed for but knew it would never come true.

It was hard to draw air into his intakes now, it always felt like there was nothing to breathe in. Pain was his constant companion and he had discovered a new way to categorise the levels of agony. He would have thought the pain of new injuries suffered would simply blend into the background feelings, but each new stab or crack stood out in his CPU for hours, almost like it was begging for his attention.

The worst of it all though, was in all this time, there was never anyone to talk to. The silence… Once, he had listened to music, but that sounded distorted and wrong now, since they had used it against him, shattering one audio. What he would have given anything for was someone to talk to, just talk, without fear of giving anything away, without fear hanging over him.

Jazz stared at the energy bars though his static filled vision, knowing he couldn't open them but they didn't hold his spark in. That call out to Prowl, louder than ever… Prowl. He wondered if he'd ever see the black and white mech again. There were things he wished he'd told the tactician, things he should never held back from telling him.

There was that period that came between deep recharge and being fully awake when Jazz imagined Prowl was with him. Whether they were back on the Ark or Prowl was with him in his cell, he wasn't sure, but it didn't matter. For those brief, blessed and all too short moments, Jazz was happy again.

Hours passed by in a haze. Reflector brought him energon at some point, and Jazz managed to summon up the energy to drink it before passing out again. He was awoken by being grabbed roughly from the floor, gagged, blinded with his metal mask and dragged from the brig with little ceremony. Jazz had never been masked before he'd been taken to his room and, as the journey lasted a long time, the saboteur guessed they weren't going to their normal destination.

After he was dumped on the floor Jazz could hear that many 'cons were present by the shuffling of bodies and muffled voices, and wondered just what was going on. Someone paced across the room in front of him, paused for a moment and then Megatron ordered, "Soundwave, open the connection."

"Connection: ready," the monotone voice of the Decepticon communications officer returned.

"Prime, how are you?"

"Megatron," Optimus' voice sounded through the room, flat but angry. "What do you want?"

"Oh nothing, nothing, just wanted to catch up," Megatron laughed.

"You never want simply nothing. Your evil knows no bounds."

"You flatter me Prime."

"What do you want?" Optimus growled, patience wearing thin.

"Well considering how well the last battle went for us… How is that arm by the way? Can you use it yet?" Megatron sounded too pleased to be concerned.

"I'll show you next time I see you," Optimus promised.

"I look forward to it. Where was I? Ah yes, considering we won the last battle, I thought I might give you a little treat. I'm feeling exceptionally generous today. Isn't that right?" Megatron asked the room at large and a chorus of cheers greeted it, laced with the chinking of energon cubes. "Motormaster, bring that present forward so Prime can see."

Jazz whimpered as he was unceremoniously hauled off the floor by rough hands and then dumped onto his knees a moment later. Megatron removed the metal mask over his visor and the gag from his mouth with a flourish. Jazz looked up to the large monitor to see Optimus staring back at him and was grateful that his leader had a face mask, because Optimus would not have been able to hide the horror. Jazz could read the big red mech well enough to see the emotion in his optics. The battered saboteur tried to offer Optimus a smile but he knew it wobbled on his face and that Optimus saw straight through it, making anger tighten his optics.

"Megatron," the Autobot leader's voice was low and thick with rage. "You will regret ever laying a hand on him."

"You don't like your present?" Megatron affected hurt.

"I would have preferred my _present_ intact," Optimus bit off.

"He would have been, if you'd even bothered to try and get him back. So much for the Autobot comradeship."

Jazz saw the bait that he'd become and refused to let Optimus take it. He wasn't worth anyone else's life.

"Don't, Optimus," he cried out, voice weak and wavering. "Don't."

"Jazz…"

"Doesn't it just break your spark?" Megatron asked sarcastically and the rest of the Decepticons laughed.

Suddenly there was a commotion on the Autobot side of the screen and Optimus had to turn abruptly around, ordering the others to be silent. There was an angry voice somewhere in the background, sounding vaguely like Ironhide, demanding action and a reason why they couldn't. Jazz caught a flash of black and white around the red bulk of Optimus' back.

"Prowl…" he whispered.

Megatron shot him an interested look before smiling,

"Prowl, oh Prowl? Your little friend is asking for you."

The silence from the other side of the screen was very telling and it took a moment for Prowl to step around Optimus to stare with cold hate at Megatron. From a mech that normally gave the Decepticons a blank face, no matter the situation, it was rather unnerving and told each and every one of them that they had hit a sore spot.

Jazz stared at Prowl, drinking in the sight of him. Merely being able to see the other mech he spent some much of his time thinking about was a balm to his battered mind. When Prowl turned his optics to Jazz, the saboteur sagged against the bonds holding his limbs, as a sort of peace settled over him.

"Jazz, listen to me," Prowl's voice was strong and clear. "Whatever they do, you will recover. I promise you."

Jazz nodded weakly, optics glued to the other black and white mech. He completely blanked the rest of the room and so missed Megatron moving. The first he knew of it was the hard foot connecting with his already smashed roof, sending him face first to the floor. The saboteur cried out weakly, curling onto his side as pain flared across his back and shot through his chest.

"Jazz!"

Prowl's voice was laced with anguish and as Jazz struggled to look up at him, Megatron's foot came down again, this time to his exposed abdomen plates. The Autobot skidded a few feet back across the floor, coming to rest at Motormaster's feet, a place he distinctly hated. By the time Jazz managed to work his way through the pain to look back at the viewer, Prowl was gone and Optimus was filling the screen.

"I'll make you a promise, Megatron."

"Oh, really? What's that Prime? You'll stop fighting so I can become supreme ruler of the universe?"

"Hardly," Optimus shook his head. "No, I promise you I won't let Prowl kill you."

Megatron looked less than impressed and told his rival exactly that. Jazz could have sworn Optimus smiled then.

"Oh, Megatron, you have no idea how much you should be thanking me."

Then the screen went blank. Megatron muttered sourly something about not having the last word and how dare Prime spoil his speech. Jazz shuttered his optics, trying to keep the image of Prowl fresh in his CPU. He was barely aware of being dragged back to his cell but when Jazz saw his cell again, terror came crawling up out of him. Those four walls haunted his every nightmare, every time he was forced into recharge by exhaustion, and every time he onlined they were dully staring back at him. Grey, cold and barely illuminated by the lights, buried in the bottom of the Nemesis somewhere. Jazz didn't know whether it was day or night, he hadn't seen natural light for so long. He could have been down here for a thousand days for all he knew.

'_Prowl_…'


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5  
Author's Notes:** I should have said before, but you guys are awesome. I'm amazed, day by day, how many of you are reading this story, and enjoying it, I'm guessing from all the reviews, favs and alerts. All I can say is THANK YOU and keep going, as best I can. Thank you to my beta, once again for speed-beta-ering for me. Enjoy a longer chapter. Sorry but ff .net has eaten some of my formatting, again, so it doesn't read as well (you'll know what I mean when you get there) but I hope you get the point.

_Italics_ - Flashback

-

Jazz reached out into space, barely aware of the world around him; just seeing Prowl coming to rescue him, to save him from his pit. All he needed was Prowl. This wasn't the first hallucination Jazz had suffered. Soundwave had raided Hook's collection of drugs to add to the torture experience and Jazz realised, after the first time, that that was just splendid. The Decepticon couldn't control what Jazz saw and he'd had some interesting experiences under the drugs, but Prowl coming to save him was a common hallucination. One he only half enjoyed, because, as the drugs wore off, Prowl was never there.

"…Prowl…" Jazz whimpered piteously, wishing for all the world he was real.

"Jazz!"

Oh, that sounded so like him… Jazz, through his patchy vision, watched his illusionary Prowl hurry towards him, stopping before the bars of his cell, pain written on his face. He knelt on the floor and whispered, "Oh Jazz, what have they done to you?"

"…Knew ya'd come… Waited…" Jazz told his figment, not caring he was talking to empty walls.

"Jazz, you hold on," Prowl told him. "We'll have you out of there in a moment."

Prowl lifted his head to look up at a big red mech on his right and seemed to be listening to something he said. Jazz paid no attention to the other parts of his hallucination because Prowl was the most important figure, the best of himself that he had left.

A white and red mech joined them and made some angry gestures, along with words, but Jazz couldn't hear them. They blurred into the background noise of thuds, booms and whines. All those noises used to mean something to Jazz, but now they were inconsequential. They didn't hurt him or help him, so why bother trying to understand?

"There is no time to pick the lock and the Decepticons know we're here, why we're here," Prowl glanced at Jazz before standing.

Jazz reached out to him, fingers grasping the air, silently begging him to come back to him, and Prowl clenched his hands, as if it pained him not be able to. He stepped to one side as the big red mech with blue legs moved to the edge of the cell. Jazz was vaguely aware of him raising one big fist before ploughing it into the wall by the edge of the cell bars. Bright sparks of light and screeching of metal briefly permeated Jazz's haze, but no connections were made, even when a piercing alarm split the air.

When the energy bars disappeared abruptly Jazz jerked in shock. Prowl stood before him, no bars obscuring his body. Never before had Prowl been inside this cell with him. This was different…

Prowl barely waited for the bars to fade before he dashed to Jazz's side. When he touched the beaten saboteur the SIC flinched, as Jazz cried out in shock and pain. Prowl watched Jazz stare at him in unguarded disbelief, half of his visor flickering on and off.

"…Ya real?..."

It dawned on Prowl then, that Jazz hadn't believed they were physically here and his spark broke more. It had already been torn when he'd entered the room and seen the state Jazz was in, but for their friend to not even realise they had actually come for him...

"Oh, Jazz," Prowl murmured, hands reaching out to him slowly. "Yes, we're real."

Jazz heard his words and then felt his hands on him. Prowl had never touched him before in his hallucinations, had always been out of reach… Perhaps he was imagining someone else was Prowl… but the hands were gentle and no hands in this place were ever kind. They only hurt him.

"P…P…Prowl?" Jazz stuttered as realisation began to steal over him.

"Yes, Jazz." Prowl slowly, ever so slowly, gathered the other black and white mech to him until he was cradled on his lap, Jazz clutching him tightly as he could.

Ratchet had been hovering behind them, having realised when Jazz had spoken, that the captured Autobot was in serious need of one strong figure to cling to. Once Prowl had a secure hold on him, Ratchet knelt beside the pair, meeting Prowl's optics briefly. He knew that the two officers were romantically involved and, once, had seriously worried about the implications, but now saw how Prowl was keeping Jazz in contact with the real world, even if his hold was tenuous at best.

Momentarily his mind balked at where to start work. His automatic scans had fed him back more information than he cared to know what to do with, but he began categorising the injuries, starting with the most serious. Jazz's left leg was awkwardly twisted from knee to ankle and Ratchet's scans told him there was no energon flow in the lower portion. Laying his hand on Jazz's foot told him it was cold and garnered no response from the mech it was attached to, which seriously worried Ratchet. If the leg hadn't received energon for too long a period Jazz would need a brand new leg, expensive and intensive treatment.

Moving up Jazz's chassis, noting scratches, scraps and dried energon everywhere, the next major injury was right across his chest. Someone had ripped his bumper from his frame, exposing internally circuitry and major energon lines, and leaving the rest of his chest buckled. It didn't escaped Ratchet's notice that Jazz's Autobot symbol had been hacked off as well.

Jazz's unique visor was badly battered, with only half seeming to work at any one given time and Ratchet guessed Jazz hadn't been able to see right for quite some while. Primus only knew why the Decepticons had seen fit to leave Jazz with his visor through it all, though it added to the brutalised appearance Jazz had. With his visor as badly damaged as it was Ratchet wondered just how much the smaller mech could sense of his surroundings. It didn't help that someone had sliced his sensory net 'horns' off, searing the open ends together with something hot enough to melt the metal edges.

"Prowl," Ratchet glanced up momentarily. "Give Jazz one of your energon rations. It will help stabilise him."

Prowl nodded as Ratchet withdrew a needle from subspace and swiftly injected the Porsche before he realised. Jazz tried to jerk away, too late, but instinctively hating the feeling. Prowl held him close, making soothing noises until Jazz calmed, but the SIC's optics never left Ratchet, who had a look of traumatised anger on his face. To have someone that should trust you, instead shy away from you was incredibly painful to watch.

When Jazz had drifted into a quiet haze, Prowl carefully changed his grip on him to retrieve a small energon cube out of one subspace pocket. All of them took energon supplies into battle with them and each of them had those little cubes to thank for their lives, at one point or another. He held it in one hand, the other gently stroking Jazz's cheek until the saboteur stirred.

"Jazz, you need to drink this. Can you do that for me?"

Jazz seemed to regard the cube for a moment before shakily announcing,

"Bad…"

"No, Jazz, it's not bad. I promise." Prowl guided the cube a slightly closer.

"…Always bad…" Jazz whimpered, one hand going out to fend off the imagined evil.

Ratchet growled, anger flaring,

"He's been poisoned or drugged in his energon then. Slaggers!"

Prowl bit his lip before steeling himself. He had to get this energon in Jazz, for his own good, and Jazz needed him to be strong, so he would keep at it until he succeeded.

"Jazz, do you trust me?"

Jazz nodded, as vigorously as he was able. Of course he trusted Prowl! More than anything, the other black and white mech was his safety net and would never do anything to hurt him. Prowl had come to rescue him, just as he believed he always would.

"So if I promised you, on my life, that this energon is good, would you believe me?" Prowl asked, gently but firmly.

Jazz was silent before nodding. Prowl noticed it wasn't nearly as spark-felt as his last one.

"So will you drink it for me?"

Jazz made a noise of confusion,

"…But energon makes meh sick…"

"Only bad energon. This is good, remember?" Prowl held the cube a little closer.

Jazz nodded slowly, still bewildered and upset. He trusted Prowl emphatically, but energon was bad, it hurt him… Prowl could see the turmoil in Jazz and thought quickly.

"Okay, if I drink some good energon, will you?"

Jazz's visor flickered dramatically for a moment. Prowl wouldn't drink bad energon. He was too strong to drink bad energon, no one would make him drink it. Prowl could only have good energon, like he'd said, so Jazz would be safe drinking Prowl's energon… wouldn't he… and he was so thirsty…

Prowl smiled as Jazz hesitantly nodded, before he took a small sip of energon. He lowered it to Jazz, holding it for him and slowly tipped a tiny amount into Jazz's mouth when he opened it. Even so, most spilled out as Jazz automatically pulled back, head turning away. Prowl hid a sigh, wiping the energon from Jazz's chin, making him cry,

"…I'm… I'm ssssorry… didn't mean…"

"Hush," Prowl stroked his cheek, wiping away the solitary tear. "It's okay. I know you didn't mean it. Want to try again, for me?"

Jazz nodded, trying to find the courage to do what Prowl asked. He had to be brave for Prowl. It was all Prowl had asked him to do and he could do it, would do it. It was good energon. It was… He raised his left hand to try to help hold the energon, that in itself made him feel better, vaguely recalling he had done that when he'd drunk good energon, all that time ago.

Prowl made encouraging noises as he tipped the energon into Jazz's mouth, feeling the saboteur's grip tighten on his hand as he fought not to turn away. Bit by bit, allowing Jazz to rest every second mouthful or so, Prowl got him to drink the whole cube. Prowl smiled widely at Jazz, feeling the smile grate against his inner turmoil,

"That's it, all done. I'm so proud of you, Jazz."

Jazz looked so happy at that, Prowl had to look away momentarily. It hurt so much to see the once clever and quick mech reduced to being pleased for someone telling him he'd done a good job, finishing one cube of energon. Prowl felt disgusted, not at Jazz or himself, but at the world in general and specifically at the time it had taken them to get to Jazz. What he felt for the Decepticons couldn't be described or classified, but Prowl, in some way, felt grateful for being here with Jazz, rather than on the front lines, doing things in his rage he would later regret.

Ratchet was standing nearby, talking to Optimus, who had reappeared in the brig room to see them. The battle in the corridor outside was fierce. The Decepticons didn't seem to want to let their prisoner go, or perhaps, it was simply seeing the Autobots in their own base that had them so riled up.

"I need my medical bay, to even begin to treat Jazz," Ratchet was saying. "He's as stable as he could be in his condition, but won't last long."

"They have us trapped in this corridor at the moment," Optimus replied, big rifle still in one hand. "We need to break through, in one movement, or risk leaving someone behind."

"Optimus," Prowl interrupted.

The other two turned to him and Prowl could see the way Optimus' optics soften when he saw Jazz. "How's he doing?"

Prowl shook his head stiffly, not willing to answer that. "I have a plan to get us out of here."

"Where do I hide?" Jazz cried out suddenly, struggling in Prowl's arms.

"Jazz, it's okay, you don't need to," Prowl shushed him, optics going to Ratchet, worried. "We're here."

Jazz calmed slightly. "Ya came…"

Prowl tightened his grip on the battered saboteur, hearing the pain and wonder in his voice. Ratchet shook his head at Optimus' look of confused concern.

"He's barely functioning, some of this damage is weeks old, some from yesterday and there are traces of drugs in his system." He looked down at the SIC. "He's latched onto you and you could be the only thing anchoring him here. He doesn't seem to have registered we're even here. Don't leave him."

"I wasn't planning to leave him," Prowl replied.

"Prowl!" Jazz's voice was plaintive. "Don't leave meh."

"I'm here, Jazz," Prowl murmured against Jazz's helm.

"Say it for meh," Jazz begged weakly. "If I'm worth savin'…"

Prowl didn't understand all of what Jazz had been saying, but somehow he knew what Jazz wanted in that instant and could give it with his entire spark.

"I love you."

Jazz shuddered and made almost pained noises as he clung to Prowl. The tactician met Optimus's optics with a hard look in his own, before outlining his plan. It was rough, it wasn't pretty, it called for several things going their way and for Optimus to beat every single Decepticon off the mark. Optimus, for his part, didn't even pause before he was striding out the doors again, calling for the 'bots key to Prowl's plan.

Ratchet helped Prowl adjust the clingy Jazz so he could hold him properly, with least strain put on his injuries, when he stood. Jazz made little noise or fuss when Prowl cradled him in his arms and just put his head on the SIC's shoulder, visor darkening. Both Ratchet and Prowl left the cell to wait in silence by the brig door, where they needed to be when the time came.

Optimus was issuing his orders quietly, reordering his troops. Trailbreaker was holding the line at their backs, forcefield raised across the whole corridor and Hound by his side, watching his back. Ironhide, Bluestreak and the twins were called into a quick group meeting, hunkered down behind what little cover the Autobots had dragged into the corridor from surrounding rooms. The others covered the five mechs as they talked, before they retook their places at the front firing line.

Optimus then sought out Mirage, Bumblebee and Blaster. Any doors down the length of the corridor the Autobots held that they hadn't managed to open already, they would need to open now. Normally Jazz would be called forward to do that, but the rest of the Special Ops members were taking up his responsibilities as well and soon had the doors forced open.

Once they were done the rest of the Autobots took up their positions in the doorways, still firing down the corridor at the Decepticons. That left Ironhide, Bluestreak and the twins on the front line, so when Optimus took his place at the back of the corridor, just in front of Trailbreaker, they opened up intense fire, forcing all the Decepticons to duck down.

Optimus transformed, revved up his engine and stormed down the corridor at top speed. The other Autobots dived into the open doors and he smashed through the boxes still left there, heading straight at the Decepticons.

"Prime!" Megatron yelled.

"Mine!" Motormaster shoved his leader out the way, transformed and roared up the corridor towards Optimus.

Everyone held their collective breath as the big riggers ploughed towards each other. The deafening crash reverberated down the corridor before there was a squealing of tyres as a war of strength was raged. Smoke rose from the tyres as they laid rubber thick across the floor and everyone watched as Motormaster began to lose ground, skewing backwards down the corridor as he fought for every inch. Optimus pushed harder and began to pick up speed, shoving Motormaster back towards his comrades.

Megatron began yelling at Motormaster to try harder, but refused to let anyone move out of the way. "You stay put, you worthless bunch!"

"But, my lord…" Skywarp began, optics watching worriedly.

"Shut up!" Megatron snarled.

The Autobots could just hear this over the straining engines and Ironhide snorted, "Idiots." He transformed and pulled up behind Optimus before asking,

"Want a shove, Prime?"

Optimus merely grunted at him, too busy to answer, but wanting to agree. Ironhide took it as an affirmative anyway.

"One shove, coming up."

The red mech planted his bumper against Optimus' tailgate and floored his accelerator. His wheels screeched in protest, laying more rubber down on the purple metal floor, but his added force gave Optimus the momentum he needed to shove Motormaster straight into the rest of his faction, scattering the Decepticons.

"Go!" Blaster yelled, seeing the opportunity.

The Autobots poured down the corridor, firing around Optimus and Ironhide, who took the chance to transform and open up their own fire. Hound and Trailbreaker collected Ratchet, Prowl and Jazz to keep watch on the most vulnerable members and wait for their chance. Mirage and Bumblebee joined them to take up point, hurrying them through the chaos of the fighting. At one point Prowl looked up, across the melee, to meet Megatron's optics and whatever the Decepticon leader saw there, he had to hide the urge to flinch from Prowl's gaze. Then someone passed between them and the small group hurried along until they were safe outside.

Ratchet transformed and opened up his tailgate for Prowl to load Jazz inside. The weak saboteur still clung to Prowl even though he was barely conscious and Mirage had to help the SIC prise Jazz free. The blue and white mech felt sick just looking at the damage across Jazz's chassis and Bumblebee was very quiet behind him. Prowl transformed and followed Ratchet who set off back to the Ark straight away, with Mirage and Trailbreaker tailing them to watch for any Decepticons. Hound and Bumblebee took up positions on either side of the exit to secure their escape route.

It wasn't long before the rest joined them, pouring out of the exit and making ready to retreat. They didn't need to beat the Decepticons; they had got what they had come for and several of the Decepticons were already badly damaged. Megatron was furious and ordered a pursuit, which was carried out somewhat half-heartedly. The other Decepticons had not found the wrath of the Autobots fun to endure, and having seen, first hand, the state of Jazz, the normally fair-fighting Autobots had turned vengeful. Optimus had allowed them a little free reign, but once Jazz was safely away, he had called his troops into retreat. They did so without argument.

Now they were all back at base, packed into the rec room, even those sporting injuries. First Aid was squeezing his way around to those that needed his attention, but somehow, against all of Prowl's odds, there were no serious wounds. The noise level was horrendous and Optimus couldn't hear himself think, but apparently Ironhide was one step ahead of the big mech.

"Will the slaggin' lot of ya just shut it already!"

The voices abruptly ceased and Ironhide sighed,

"Better."

Optimus nodded his thanks to his weapons specialist,

"All of those with injuries, First Aid is your port of call. Ratchet will be concentrating on Jazz and…"

Optimus got no further before the voices broke out again.

"How is Jazz?"

"When will we be able to see him?"

"Is he going to be okay?"

Optimus held up his hands, stalling the questions,

"I know as much as you do and no, I'm not going to go ask Ratchet - and neither is anyone else. As much as I'd like to know how Jazz is doing, it is far more important that Ratchet is given space to work. The faster he works the quicker we will have Jazz back among us. If I find out anyone has been bothering Ratchet, Jazz or Prowl, then they'll be seeing the inside of the brig for the foreseeable future, with all of Prowl and Jazz's work to keep them company. Clear?"

"Yes, sir!" the voices chorused back at him.

"Very well then," Optimus nodded. "Reports to me by tomorrow morning. Everyone get some energon and recharge."

"Thank you, sir," a small voice spoke up. Optimus glanced through of the sea of faces to spot Bluestreak. "Thank you for letting us take the chance to get Jazz back."

Optimus smiled at the young gunner,

"You're welcome, Bluestreak. I only wish I'd taken that risk earlier."

"You did the right thing, Optimus, don't go second guessing yourself." Ironhide shook his head. "It all worked out fine. Jazz is back and we gave those Decepticreeps something to remember!"

A loud cheer went up round the room and everyone fell back into their conversations they'd been having before. Optimus slipped out of the room, heading for his office, trying to stave off the darker thoughts lurking in his CPU. Yes, they had Jazz back, but Optimus had seen the saboteur and wondered if everything was fine, as Ironhide had said. Jazz was not the same 'bot he use to be and the big red mech wondered if he would ever be again.

Ratchet would put his body back together, but Optimus couldn't help the doubt that lingered over Jazz's mind. Could Prowl put that back together? Could the most reticent and logical mech on the base delve through Jazz's battered psyche and heal all those torments?

The leader of the Autobots sat behind his desk, alone, thinking his dark thoughts for some time before a door chime interrupted his musing.

"Enter."

Ratchet stomped in, datapad in hand. Optimus could see the lines of tension written through every inch of his CMO.

"Ratchet?"

"It doesn't make for pleasant reading," Ratchet slapped the datapad down on Optimus' desk, fuming, before storming back out of his office.

Optimus knew what the little datapad contained and stared at it for sometime. He had seen Jazz and wasn't sure he wanted to know every single hurt his third in command had suffered, but some part of him wanted to know so he could inflict all those pains back on the Decepticons. A deep rage burned. They fought against this and yet it still happened to the best of them.

With narrowed optics he pulled the datapad across the table towards him and picked it up, fingers turning it on as he did so. A medical report appeared on screen, brief but accurate and Optimus scrolled down through it until the list of injuries became visible.

Patient: Jazz (TIC/HSO)

Injuries upon arrival:

--Main concern – Left lower leg. Initial damage from explosion (Patient information).  
--External damage/view – badly twisted and cold to the touch, no response from patient.  
--Internal examination revealed broken or blocked energon lines. Remains of dried energon on the inside of plating. Estimate no energon flow to foot for two weeks (entire length of capture). Lower leg replacement needed.

--Right foot wheel shredded and skewed in its housing.

--Abdominal plating cracked and buckled – suggested reason – repeated kicking.

--Bumper missing from front of chest plate.  
--Internal circuits and energon lines damaged.  
--Autobot symbol missing –transformation cog damage from method of removal.

--Roof panel nearly lying flat to back.  
--Initial damage from explosion (Patient information) but aggravated by later inflicted punishment.

--Visor badly damaged – suggested source – strong acid - replacement needed.

--Both sensory net 'horns' removed.  
--Once removed areas were seared shut with super-heated metal.

--Left audio broken – probable exposure to intense noise at close range.

--Right hand broken and pulley system missing.

--Damage indicts forceful removal.

--All glass smashed out and missing, including headlights. Replacement needed for all.

--Number of scratches and dents remain uncounted.

--Mental condition – seriously unstable.  
--Patient has reverted to almost youngling like behaviour, seeks to protect self in the extreme from all danger, even though no danger is present.--Only responds to Prowl (SIC/HT) in any positive sense and barely any reaction to anyone else.

Optimus threw the datapad across the room where it smashed to pieces on the wall opposite. His desk nearly joined it and Optimus left finger imprints in it before he got a handle on his intense anger. If any Decepticon had been in range in that instant they would have thought themselves in another universe, because Optimus would have hurt them in such a way they would have thought him the bad guy.

Optimus growled softly. Primus, if he was feeling like this, he couldn't imagine how Prowl was managing…

-

"Jazz, please."

Violent shake of a black head,

"Can't recharge there, not safe…"

"You're in the Autobot base now. No one can harm you here," Prowl pleaded, going down on one knee so he could see Jazz better, scrunched up under the medical berth. He'd scrambled off the berth as soon as he'd become aware of where he was.

"No…"

Prowl sighed before scooting under the bed with Jazz,

"Can you tell me why?"

Jazz trembled but inched towards Prowl, seeking his safety,

"…Too open… come from behind…"

Prowl understood and nodded,

"You are safe, but I think I can make you feel safer. How about Ratchet and I move the berth to the wall so you can recharge with your back to the wall and then we'll put another berth in front of it so I can be between you and the rest of the room? Would that be okay?"

Jazz made a small noise of apprehension but nodded anyway. He couldn't explain to Prowl that this room was too open, too bright. He felt exposed and so vulnerable, even with Prowl here, but let the other mech help him out from his hiding place, until he stood pressed up against Prowl, letting him bear most of his weight.

Prowl gently stroked Jazz's arm, still unable to really touch most of Jazz because of the injuries he still bore. Ratchet had given him painkillers but even the strongest ones didn't stop Jazz feeling everything. Even so Jazz got around remarkably well, moving quickly when he felt the situation merited it, regardless of the fact he didn't have a left leg below the knee or a right hand. Ratchet had removed both, either to be fixed, in the case of the hand, or to be replaced completely.

The SIC guided him to one side of the room, placing him on a chair in one corner. It took a while to persuade Jazz to let go of him so he could go move the berth with Ratchet, and the sharp screech of metal across the floor had the saboteur cowering, left hand covering his one working audio. Prowl lifted the berth a little more and the noise ceased, but Jazz was still crouched in his seat, ready to make a dash for Primus knew where.

Once the berth was secure, with another placed directly in front of it, Prowl returned to Jazz and spent some minutes calming him down, until the saboteur was almost in recharge where he sat. With Jazz dozing on his feet Prowl helped him across the room and onto the berth, staying with him all the way. He got him settled, lying on his side on the berth and Jazz soon dropped off into recharge. Ratchet was quick to hook Jazz up to monitors, an energon drip and a stasis device to keep him under until Ratchet decided otherwise.

Prowl helped Ratchet move the berth back out from the wall so the CMO had room to work around it, and left briefly to gather some work before returning to sit by Jazz's side. He hadn't wanted to leave and Ratchet, for once, had agreed his presence was needed. When Jazz had awakened he hadn't even registered Ratchet leaning over him before he was scrambling off the berth and under it, leaving the CMO no time to process how Jazz could possibly even be conscious. Prowl, for all intents and purposes, was moving his office into the med bay for the foreseeable future.

Prowl tried to concentrate on his work, but his optics kept drifting to where Ratchet was working. First Aid had joined him once Jazz was offline and was busy at the other end of Jazz. There was so much in the way of repairs to do that the medics didn't get in each others way. Wheeljack and Perceptor were busy elsewhere, making new parts for the saboteur, the most pressing of which was his leg and chest plates. There was a temporary plate welded over the gaping hole above Jazz's spark to stop further damage, but Ratchet stressed it was only temporary and wouldn't hold against much activity.

Optimus had closed the med bay off to all except those directly involved in Jazz's recovery. If someone needed medical help, then they were directed to Perceptor and if it was above his ability to fix then First Aid would be dispatched to deal with it. Ratchet wasn't letting anyone else within twenty mechanometers of his medical bay and the highly unstable patient housed within it.

Prowl was now unable to take up his entire work load, so more mechs were finding themselves with work that wasn't their own. They were all willing though. The rest of the Autobots had taken on Jazz's work load without complaint and now knew Jazz needed Prowl to help him recover. Why that was, well, that was rumour. Every 'bot knew what had transpired between the two officers all those months ago, but no one knew for certain what had been happening in the interim. All they knew now was that Optimus had ordered no one to pester Prowl about Jazz, even though he was allowed to spend pretty much all of his time in the med bay.

Prowl knew all this, but dismissed the problem to concentrate on Jazz. He'd seen the looks that Ratchet had been shooting him occasionally and suspected Ratchet was going to start on him soon. The CMO knew, if Prowl's response to Jazz was clue enough, that Prowl loved Jazz and the tactician was deliberately ignoring his emotional response to the state of the saboteur. He had to. He had already lost control at the sight of Jazz that Megatron had gifted them before…

_Megatron's voice cut through the room, _

"_Prowl, oh Prowl? Your little friend is asking for you."_

_The room fell into silence as everyone, bar Optimus, turned to stare at the black and white mech. Prowl froze for a brief moment, desperate to see Jazz, but knowing that once he saw his love at Megatron's hands then something would break inside. He stepped around Optimus to stare with cold hate at Megatron. From a mech that normally gave the Decepticons a blank face, no matter the situation, it was the best that Prowl could manage at the time._

_The SIC stared at Jazz, sheer disbelief racing through him. How was Jazz even conscious? He was barely recognisable as their friend and Prowl felt his tanks turn as he took in the loss of Jazz's horns. The tactician hadn't admitted it, but when they interfaced they were one of his favourite spots on Jazz to touch. Swallowing all of it down as best he could he said,_

"_Jazz, listen to me. Whatever they do, you will recover. I promise you."_

_Jazz had nodded weakly, optics glued to the other black and white mech. Prowl had been distracted by the look on Jazz's face and missed Megatron moving, otherwise he would have called a warning or something. He felt the pain like it was his own when Megatron's foot hit Jazz in the centre of his back, crying out when Jazz did._

"_Jazz!"_

_Prowl's voice was laced with anguish and something snapped in him when Megatron's foot came down again, this time to the saboteur's exposed abdomen plates. Optimus must have seen something change in his second in command, because he grabbed him the instant before he launched himself at the screen, hauling him away behind him, passing him to Ironhide. Prowl wasn't sure what he had been thinking, only that Megatron was going to scream._

"_I'll make you a promise, Megatron," Optimus had said, grim but calm._

"_Oh, really? What's that, Prime? You'll stop fighting so I can become supreme ruler of the universe?"_

"_Hardly." Optimus shook his head. "No, I promise you I won't let Prowl kill you."_

_Megatron had looked less than impressed and told his rival exactly that. Prowl could have sworn that Optimus smiled then._

"_Oh, Megatron, you have no idea how much you should be thanking me."_

_Optimus had cut the connection and turned to Prowl who had sagged against Ironhide's arms._

"_That's not a promise you should have made," Prowl shook his head._

"_Would you break my promise, Prowl?" Optimus asked._

_Prowl shrugged free of Ironhide and straightened, _

"_We will see when we go to get Jazz back, won't we?"_

Prowl narrowed his optics grimly. He had been too caught up with Jazz to worry about Megatron and he truly didn't want to break Optimus' ill-advised promise, but he wasn't sure such a promise would be remembered if he saw the Decepticon leader again.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

**Author's Note:** Well guys, sorry for the delay, but this chapter was much harder to write than any of the others before. I hope I passes muster, since a lot of you have left me great reviews, telling me to keep up the good work. No pressure or anything! Thanks again to my beta, who still knows nothing about Transformers, but still reads this for me.

_Italics - Comms.  
_**Bold - Flashback**

-

Ratchet sighed, wiping his red hands on a cloth before he stepped back from the repair berth. He had pulled yet another all nighter, by himself this time. First Aid had been sent to get some recharge over two joors ago, even though he had protested against the idea. The CMO had pulled rank on his junior medic, despite knowing that First Aid just wanted to help and that his words had merit. His back struts were stiff from being bent over the table for so long, but he had needed to finish.

Prowl silently joined him at his side, optics sweeping over Jazz. His paint was still patchy and it clearly showed where the new parts were, but he was complete now. Gently Prowl ran white fingers up the new leg, across the whole abdomen plates, over the chest plate that now clearly resembled its Porsche alt mode, finally resting on the two stubby horns on Jazz's helm.

"Is he… repaired?" Prowl hesitated in asking, because he didn't want a negative answer.

"To the best of my abilities," Ratchet dumped the cloth on a bench. "I can repair his body Prowl, but the rest…"

"That's up to me, I know," Prowl nodded.

"Do you think you can? I mean, with what he was like…" Ratchet trailed off. It was not a task he would want to take on.

Prowl was silent for a moment before whispering,

"I have no choice."

Ratchet agreed, sadness in his voice.

"Will you wake him now?" the tactician turned to look at white and red mech.

"Well I was going to go get some recharge, but there is nothing, physically, to stop me bringing him round," Ratchet shrugged.

"Wake him, then go recharge Ratchet. You've done your job."

"Are you sure?"

Prowl gave him a lopsided smile,

"If he wakes up like before, then he won't even know you're here."

"Don't remind me," the medic muttered.

Prowl watched as he removed the stasis lock from Jazz's head, placing it to one side. Ratchet nodded at Prowl and then left, door sliding shut behind him. Once alone the back and white mech devoted all of his attention to the mech lying full stretch on the berth. He'd been around long enough to know that after a prolonged stasis it would take a while for Jazz's systems to activate fully.

The first thing Jazz became aware of was that he'd been asleep. Alarm rushed through him. It was dangerous to recharge, and to feel this well he had been in recharge for a long time. As he struggled awake it hit him. He felt good, better than good. There was no pain, no confusion… Memories came flooding back. Prowl!

His visor snapped into life, shocking him momentarily with the clearness of the vision, before he focused on the ceiling above him. It wasn't grey… It wasn't grey! That meant, that meant…. Jazz cried out, uncertainty swamping his CPU.

"Hey, it's alright Jazz. I'm right here."

The voice was warm, gentle and he knew that voice. Jazz turned his head towards it, optics searching, and finding the smiling face of Prowl, which meant he hadn't hallucinated Prowl coming for him… Shakily he reached up, touching the edge of the white helm and shock flashed through him.

"Prowl? Ya real? I didn't imagine ya?"

Prowl covered Jazz's hand with his, pressing it to his cheek,

"No Jazz. I'm real. You're safe in the Ark now."

Jazz glanced back at the orange ceiling. His CPU made the connection of orange, Ark, safety and he shuddered.

"Prowl… how long was it?"

Prowl looked away,

"Over two earth weeks. I'm sorry Jazz, I should have come for you sooner."

"I knew ya'd come. Never doubted it."

"How could you be so sure? What they did to you…" Prowl faltered, images flashing through his mind.

"I…"

**"I'm going to teach you some manners, little Autobot."**

"No, no, no, no…."

Prowl was startled by the sudden change in Jazz's demeanour as he curled up small, endlessly repeating his denial. Unsure he reached out, one hand gently touching Jazz on his shoulder. The saboteur flinched away, voice climbing an octave and Prowl felt the burn of horror as he realised what he'd inadvertently done.

"Jazz, I'm sorry."

This time he didn't let go of the other black and white when he touched him, pulling him close into his body, despite the fear shaking every inch of Jazz's body. Determinedly he held on, firmly saying,

"Jazz I'm here. Come back to me. Prowl's here Jazz, follow my voice love."

In his arms, still trembling, Jazz turned his head towards Prowl, one hand reaching out, searching. The tactician grasped it in his own hand, bringing it to his lips where he placed a gentle kiss upon it.

"Prowl?"

"Jazz, I'm here. No one else, just you and me." Prowl kept his voice low and reassuring.

The Datsun could see the moment the blue visor focused on his, showing Jazz was back with him and not buried in his memories. The shaken mech visibly relaxed before realising what had happened and throwing himself at Prowl, arms wrapping tightly around him. Prowl was nearly knocked off balance by the force of Jazz's embrace, but kept himself upright, hugging Jazz back.

"I'm sorry Jazz. I should have known better."

"Don't," Jazz shook his head where it was buried in Prowl's shoulder. "I can't… Can we talk 'bout summat else, please?"

"Alright," Prowl nodded. "How are you feeling? Do you want to walk around or do you need some energon?"

Jazz thought about it, trying to keep away from the lingering memories,

"I feel good. Little stiff maybe."

"Want to walk it out?" Prowl asked softly, still waiting for Jazz to release his limpet grip on him.

"Ya won't…go will ya?" Jazz whispered, feeling ashamed he needed to ask, that he needed Prowl to be so close.

"I'm not going anywhere. As long as you need me, I'll be here for you," Prowl replied steadily. "You know that."

Jazz nodded again, raising his head and slowly letting go of the chassis he'd been clinging to. Prowl stepped back little by little until there was enough room for Jazz to slide off the berth and stand. The saboteur stared at his own feet briefly, enjoying the sight of them whole, before slipping off the bed to stand upright. He swayed momentarily, trying to remember to stand with equal weight on both feet, not the pain ingrained lean he'd developed in captivity. With a frown he stared at his legs and then glanced up at Prowl,

"I've forgotten…"

"Forgotten what?"

"How t' walk properly."

Prowl smiled,

"One foot in front of the other. You'll remember once you start."

With a look of puzzled concentration on his face Jazz wobbled his way across the floor, not noticing Prowl was inching back slightly so he could walk properly. It wasn't long before Jazz was stepping out fully and a pleased smile crossed his face,

"Ya were right."

"Of course I was," Prowl replied, face serious, hiding a teasing smile.

"Smart aft," Jazz muttered, grin on his face. "N ya stop creepin' backwards now."

Prowl stopped and let Jazz slid one arm around his waist, snuggling into his side,

"Ratchet will be pleased with how well you're doing."

"Ratchet… yeah I suppose," Jazz glanced around the room, really noticing for the first time where he was. How open, bright the med bay was. How exposed and vulnerable he felt. "Prowl…"

The SIC felt the smaller mech tense, heard the panic starting to creep into his voice and tightened his arm around him.

"You're alright Jazz. There's no one else here, just you and me. The Decepticons would never get you here. You know the others wouldn't let them near you and Ratchet would rip any 'Con apart that dared to touch his med bay."

Jazz nodded, still feeling apprehensive,

"How… how is everyone?"

"Glad to have you back. They all want to see you, especially Bluestreak. Every time I've seen him I could tell he was dying to question me about you," Prowl smiled at Jazz.

"Ya mean he didn't?" Jazz stared at Prowl's face, trying to block out the rest of the room.

"Optimus gave orders that no one was to pester about you," Prowl gently led Jazz back to his berth. "They've all been remarkably good about it, but I think the rumour mill will start up again now, since this is the first time Ratchet's been out of the med bay since you were brought home."

"Guess we're out then," Jazz couldn't help the smirk on his face. Prowl had been the one to insist that they kept their relationship as private as it could be, neither confirming nor denying the rumours. Jazz had gone along with him, secretly enjoying that the connection between them was so very theirs and no one else's, but he had always ribbed Prowl about the day their secret would be out.

"Prime knows," Prowl shrugged, settling down on the berth, Jazz still at his side. "And Ratchet, obviously. I think a few of the others will have guessed."

"'N the rumour mill will do the rest."

Prowl nodded, hand stroking over Jazz's arm. He wasn't sure when he'd started, but he felt reluctant to stop. Jazz was back with him now, whole and nothing was ever going hurt him like that again. The SIC knew that was a downright ridiculous thing to promise himself, in the midst of a war, where the opposition had shown they badly wanted Jazz, but in the instant he had known Jazz was late from returning from his mission, his world had stopped. For a terrifying moment Prowl lost all sense of everything as his spark froze. When he had got moving again the tactician knew if he lost Jazz, then would lose most of his reason to fight this war and continuing would just be him going through the motions.

Prowl was brought out of his thoughts by Jazz's head thumped gently down onto his shoulder, already deep in recharge. With a soft smile Prowl was content to just sit, holding Jazz, and let him sleep. That's how Ratchet found them some a joor later and he hesitated in the doorway upon seeing them so content together. Clearly Prowl had little problem with Jazz, which was a good sign.

"Don't worry Ratchet, he's in recharge," Prowl commented, back still turned to the doorway. "In fact he entered recharge much sooner than I thought he would."

Ratchet came into the med bay fully, walking around the berth to get a better look at Jazz.

"That doesn't surprise me. He still has a long recovery left. I wouldn't clear him for active duty for at least a week or so, but as it stands, I can't say when he'll be back on duty." Ratchet turned his optics to Prowl. "How did it go?"

"Better than I had hoped," Prowl admitted. "He was far more lucid than he was before, but I learnt one vital lesson, one that I think it would be wise for all of us to bear in mind."

"Which is?"

"Don't mention anything to do with what he's been through," Prowl held Jazz a little tighter, drawing out a soft sound from the saboteur. "I barely managed to start a sentence on the subject and he was swallowed by memories."

Ratchet sighed,

"For now, I'll agree with you Prowl, but he can't hide from the facts forever. It will damage his psyche."

"And how would you suggest I go about changing that Ratchet?" Prowl's tone had a hint of anger in it. "When he realised he was in the med bay, he started to panic because it was too open and bright."

Ratchet waved a hand at Prowl, trying to stave off the rising fury,

"I would have thought the fact that the med bay was the exact opposite to where he was kept would have benefited him."

Prowl frowned,

"Perhaps, in spite of everything, he became habituated to it all. He would have developed a routine to survive and any break to that illusion of safety has got to frightening."

"If that's the case," Ratchet narrowed his optics. "We've got to work on getting him into a new routine and breaking the old one."

"I will try," Prowl murmured before sliding off the berth, laying Jazz back down. "Ratchet when he wakes again, will you be here? I think we need to see if he recognises someone other than me. When I mentioned your name in passing, saying that you would be pleased at his progress, he truly seemed to have to think about whom you were and why you would be pleased."

Ratchet had to bite back the swell of sorrow at those words,

"I don't want to have to forge a friendship with him, all over again. That seems almost cruel, but I will, for his sake."

"Thank you Ratchet," Prowl nodded at the medic before turning back to his work, leaving the medic standing at Jazz's side, staring at his patient.

Ratchet, for his part, was starting to worry about Prowl. Of course he was still deeply concerned as to what the future held for Jazz, but, except for that tiny show of anger, Prowl had shown little to no emotion over Jazz's recovery. He needed to talk to some 'bot over this, otherwise he would crack and then where would that leave Jazz?

"Prowl," Ratchet turned to the SIC, who sat behind a temporary desk wedged into one corner.

"Hmmm?" Prowl didn't look up from his datapad.

"Go get yourself some energon. I'm back now, so I can keep an eye on Jazz whilst you're gone."

The tactician did down his datapad then,

"I think I'm more fuelled now, than I ever have been in the past."

Ratchet had not let him skip a meal, like he would occasionally do in his office,

"I meant for Jazz when he wakes up and it'll be good for you to see something other than the inside of this med bay."

"It's no different to me being in my office," Prowl frowned.

"I'd say the same thing if I thought it would make a difference to get you out of there, but this is my med bay, not your office," Ratchet folded his arms across his chest. "As an officer you're suppose to be a presence for the rest of the crew to see."

"Jazz always filled that role enough for the both of us," Prowl couldn't help glancing at the still figure across the room from him.

"And now it's your turn," Ratchet pointed to the doors. "Get."

Prowl reluctantly left, saying a soft goodbye to Jazz as he slept, promising not to be too long. Every time he had departed from the med bay, Prowl had done exactly the same thing, even though he knew full well Jazz couldn't hear him. Maybe it was for his own benefit.

Swiftly he made his way to the rec room, taking Ratchet's advice to spark. He wasn't a social mech, but he could at least make an effort and the others would be heartened by the news Jazz had awoken for the first time today. Group morale was important to the war effort.

"Prowl!" a voice suddenly called out and Prowl looked up, breaking his thoughts.

Blaster was jogging down the corridor towards him and Prowl stopped walking,

"Yes Blaster?"

"You're out of med bay, and I know I'm not suppose to ask after Jazz, but he's my pal y'know, so it's only polite," Blaster came to a halt in front of him, a hopeful expression on his face.

"I was just on my way to the rec room to make a general announcement about Jazz, actually," Prowl replied.

"Quick run by for me? I'm on my way to comms. and I don't want to be late."

"Jazz was awake for the first time today, walked around for a bit before falling into recharge," Prowl summarized.

A huge smile broke out on the red mech's face,

"That's great news! Man, the others will be pleased to hear that!"

Prowl nodded,

"Agreed. Now I believe you said something about being on shift?"

"Gotcha and gone!" Blaster waved as he started back on his trip to communications. Prowl watched him for a moment, feeling his spirits lift a little. Blaster was right, it was good news.

The rec room lay only a few feet further down the corridor and Prowl didn't delay any longer. As he stepped through the doors to the large room he immediately noticed who was present and who would ask the difficult questions he still didn't want to answer. For their part, the Autobots turned to stare at him, clearly wanting to speak up but unsure of where to start.

"Come on then," Ironhide spoke up gruffly from the corner. "Out with it."

"How do you know I wish to make a statement?" Prowl replied. "I could be merely checking up on everyone."

Ironhide snorted, hiding a guffaw of laughter,

"Forgive me Prowl, but that ain't you. You're not with Jazz so you're here to say something to us."

Prowl nodded,

"That's a fair statement. Jazz woke for the first time today and Ratchet has done an excellent job as Jazz managed to walk around the med bay."

A spontaneous cheer broke out, started by Sideswipe and Bluestreak in the far corner, but everyone was soon joining in and Prowl smiled slightly. When the noise level died down a bit Prowl moved to retrieve energon for Jazz but was intercepted by Bumblebee.

"You'll give Jazz my best won't you?"

Prowl nodded at the minibot,

"Of course I will. He'll be glad to hear you're thinking of him."

Bumblebee nodded, a small frown still on his face.

"What else is the matter Bumblebee?"

"Do you know when we'll be able to see Jazz? I mean he's been back for a week now and no one has seen him and we're kinda missing him around," the yellow mech looked up at Prowl.

Prowl hesitated. Physically there was nothing to stop anyone visiting Jazz and hindering his recovery. In fact, in normal circumstances, Jazz would be begging for some company, but Prowl doubted Jazz would be able to react normally yet and he also suspected that Jazz wouldn't want the others to see him quite this unstable. As the Autobots relied on him to be a level head through chaos, they depended on Jazz to raise moral and help them look forward positively.

"I will have to talk to Ratchet about that, but I hope it will be soon."

"Me too," Bumblebee offered his officer a small smile before disappearing out the room.

Prowl filled a cube at the dispensary and was heading for the door when Sideswipe stepped into his path. There was a look of stubborn determination on his face, one that Prowl knew well. It was the one he wore when he wasn't going to be dissuaded from a pranking spree, regardless of the consequences and Prowl felt himself stiffen slightly in readiness.

"Talk to Bluestreak already. I've no slagging audios left," Sideswipe's voice was low to stop it carrying to the mech in question. "How you and Jazz manage it, I'll never know."

"Sideswipe," Prowl could hear the warning tone in his own voice.

"Don't give me that," the red twin glared. "We both know I'll be as insubordinate as pit until you talk to the mech."

Prowl had a quick look towards Bluestreak, who was chatting happily to a very moody looking Sunstreaker, but didn't fail to notice the number of times he shot looks at Prowl in the course of one sentence. The black and white mech felt a little twinge of guilt. He had been neglecting Bluestreak, for good reason, but the young mech normally spent good portion of his free time hanging around either Jazz or himself.

"I will have to keep this short. I have to get back to Jazz soon."

Sideswipe nodded and muttered,

"You'll have to tell us why that is one day."

Prowl glanced sharply at Sideswipe, but the front liner moved passed him to sit back in his seat. Sunstreaker saw Prowl coming and left, leaving Bluestreak mid word, but the young Datsun didn't seem to mind as he smiled at Prowl.

"Prowl! How is Jazz? Am I allowed to ask that? When will I be able to see him because I miss talking to him, he always seemed to have time to listen to me and I know I go a bit…"

"Jazz is still recovering," Prowl slid into Sunstreaker's vacated chair.

"Yes, but you said he was up and walking around, which means Ratchet won't keep him much longer," Bluestreak had seen enough of the med bay to know the CMO's workings.

"Jazz has more than just physical injuries to recover from," Prowl admitted, wondering how much he would tell the others.

Bluestreak frowned,

"But he's Jazz."

"Any experience leaves a permanent mark behind," Prowl replied.

"But you got injured and aren't any different," Bluestreak protested.

"Well, 'cept he's with Jazz now," Sideswipe muttered.

"I suffered an injury that was then repaired, without much real trauma to myself and, as Sideswipe pointed out, I gained something positive out of the whole experience. Jazz was captured, tortured and certainly gained nothing positive from it. He will have changed."

"It's the first time he's got captured on a solo mission. He always seemed to have the luck of Primus on his side," Mirage told them softly from the next table and Prowl nodded as the other two fell silent. "The first time he's been singled out like that."

"He always seemed so confident, like he'd never be caught," Sideswipe stared into the bottom of his barely touched energon cube.

"He hid his fears before," Mirage glanced at Prowl briefly. "For all of us."

"Then I know what we have to do then!" Bluestreak announced and the other three looked at him expectantly. "We have to brave for him now."

Prowl felt a small smile curve his lips upwards. Bluestreak had taken an emotional blow when Jazz had been captured and had been struggling to accept his current state, but now it seemed he was pulling together. The young gunner looked up to Jazz, almost as much as he did to Prowl, and it was good to see him acting maturely.

"Thank you Bluestreak," Prowl nodded. "I'm sure Jazz will appreciate that."

"You think?" the younger Datsun look a little unsure.

"Yeah, course he will," Sideswipe nudged him. "It's a great idea."

Bluestreak smiled broadly before he started talking about what they could do. Sideswipe shot Prowl a look, showing he understood what Prowl was thinking and that he'd encourage Bluestreak. Prowl inclined his head slightly, wondering whether Sideswipe was a good role model for Bluestreak, but the red twin would help keep him positive.

'_Prowl!'_

_'Ratchet, is…'_

_'Awake and scared out of his plating. Get your aft down here!'_

Prowl had shot out of his seat before Ratchet had finished, leaving the others gaping after him and the energon forgotten on the table. Guilt made Prowl run quicker. He had promised Jazz he wouldn't be too long and he had been. Now Jazz was suffering.

He burst through the med bay doors, screeching to a halt just inside. Ratchet was standing at one side of the room, hands out and a pleading, hurt expression on his face plates. Prowl turned to look at the other side of the room to find a berth overturned, medical equipment scattered across the floor and no sight of Jazz.

"Behind the berth," Ratchet whispered.

"Stay away!" Jazz screamed from his hiding place. "I'm armed 'n ya'll not get meh this time!"

Prowl and Ratchet both flinched. The tactician nodded at Ratchet, indicating he was to stay where he was as he made his way across the room. Jazz clearly heard him move because a welder came flying out of concealment at him, which he ducked instinctively. It bounced off the wall behind him.

"Jazz, it's me Prowl. I'm sorry I wasn't here when you woke up," Prowl spoke as he continued across the floor.

"Prowl? I… where am I? I can't remember…" Jazz voice wavered.

"In the Ark, in the med bay. You're making a mess of Ratchet's med bay."

"Am I? Sorry… just couldn't think straight 'n then I saw a mech 'n they weren't ya 'n I was back in that cell…" There was a clatter from behind the berth and Jazz's head appeared over the top of the toppled berth. Prowl smiled gently at him, going to him to hold the saboteur tightly, seeing the laser scalpel Jazz had dropped. After a reassuring moment, where Jazz clung to him, Prowl asked,

"Jazz will you do something for me? Will you look across the room for me?"

Jazz frowned, doing as he was requested and Prowl really had to hold onto him when Jazz realised they weren't alone, but he didn't miss the crushing sorrow on the medics face.

"Jazz!" Prowl said, perhaps a mite sharper than needed. "Jazz, it's just Ratchet."

"Ratchet... He…"

"Look at him," Prowl instructed. "Does he look like any Decepticon you can name?"

"I…" Jazz stared at the white and red boxy mech. "No…"

"Then is he a Decepticon?"

"…no?" Jazz looked up at Prowl, confusion so clear.

"No," Prowl agreed. "He's the one that made you better. He got rid of all that pain for you."

Jazz returned his gaze to the medic,

"Ya fixed meh?"

Ratchet nodded,

"I worked for a week none stopped."

Jazz glanced down at himself,

"I… I… I guess, thank ya?"

"You're very welcome Jazz," Ratchet smiled weakly.

"I'm sorry I wrecked ya med bay. Guess I'm not maself yet."

Prowl choked on a sob, tightly shuttering his optics. Jazz hugged him comfortingly, understanding why he hurt, knowing it was his fault and that only he could make it better. He would try. The smaller black and white shot Ratchet another look. Ratchet. Not a Decepticon. He wouldn't make that mistake again. For Prowl he would remember. He knew Ratchet from before, he could remember that, here in Prowl's arms, but that seemed to be the only place he could concentrate. He'd work on that too.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

**Author's Notes:** To everyone who has fav-ed this, is watching, has sent me all those lovely reviews, and spazz quietly when I mention I'm going to post a new chapter *coughRaecough*, you guys are the best. Have some popcorn and hope you like this chapter!

-

"Are you ready?"

"Yeah, I guess," Jazz snorted. "This is ridiculous, ya askin' me if I'm ready t' see Optimus."

Prowl didn't answer that, just opened the med bay doors and admitted the red and blue mech. Optimus nodded at Prowl, trying to delay looking at Jazz, having been warned by Prowl that Jazz would struggle and not wanting to see his once vivacious third in command cower from him. The tactician had turned straight back to Jazz as soon as he had greeted Optimus, watching the other black and white closely. Jazz hadn't moved, though his hands were gripping the berth behind him tightly and his frame was shaking ever so slightly. Sadly, it was a huge improvement.

Jazz swallowed before blurting out, "Optimus."

"Jazz," the mech replied gently. "Would you like me to sit down?"

Nervous laughter greeted his question. "Ya ain't suppose t' ask meh that."

"Would you like me to sit down?" Optimus repeated.

Jazz's head dropped. "Please, ya remind meh of…"

Prowl took three steps forward before he could stop himself, but Jazz caught himself before he lost himself to his memories. He straightened slightly, nodding a little, almost to himself. Optimus took it as permission to move and headed over to a berth at the other side of the room. Prowl followed him, but didn't sit, just made sure he was in the same field of vision as Optimus so Jazz didn't have to move his head to see him.

"How are you feeling?"

"Bored outta ma processors," Jazz replied, trying to get himself to relax. Prowl and he had been over this many times. He knew Optimus. Yes, he was big and powerful, like many of the Decepticons, but he didn't match any of the colour combinations of the 'Cons and that was something Jazz could focus on.

"I'm not surprised," Optimus agreed.

"Bet ya missin' meh 'n Prowl doin' all our work." Jazz dragged his optics up to meet Optimus', which made his leader smile as much as the words had.

"It would be nice to have you back. I'm sure the others would be grateful."

"The others… yeah." Jazz looked away, feeling guilty he hadn't yet seen any of them, yet they kept asking about him, sending him their wishes, gifts to help pass the time.

Silence descended over the med bay before Optimus chuckled weakly, making the two black and white mechs look at him. "I had a whole conversation planned out in my head before I came here and now I can't think of a thing to say."

"That's not like you." Prowl frowned at his leader.

"It's seeing Jazz that's done it." Optimus nodded at the mech in question whose head came up, startled.

"Meh?"

"Yes." Optimus folded his big hands into his lap. "I have been very….concerned about you and just seeing you has soothed a lot of nerves."

"Thank you," Jazz murmured. "I know I'm lettin' everyone down…"

"Jazz!" Prowl exclaimed and Jazz shook his head.

"I am, Prowl. I have responsibilities 'n hidin' in the med bay not seein' anyone isn't goin' t' do meh forever. I wanna go out there 'n see 'em, but it's like Prowl said before, 'bout losin' their respect."

"And it is exactly as you told me as well, they won't stop respecting you," Prowl chided gently.

"There's more to it than that," Optimus added. "Retribution."

Prowl nodded in agreement.

"Retribution?" Jazz asked, puzzled.

"They have already crossed some lines, seeking revenge for you." Optimus sighed. "And whilst I am willing to over look it once, if they realised how much more you have suffered… I do not want to have to deal with the consequences."

"Ironhide," Prowl guessed.

The Prime inclined his head slightly. "One of the culprits. It seems that Jazz inspires even the most laid back of mechs to some uncharacteristically violent behaviour."

"So ya don't want meh out there yet." Jazz tried not to sound relieved.

"When you are ready, Jazz," Optimus told him. "When you're ready."

Jazz frowned. He wasn't sure he'd ever be ready because he was simply hiding from his fears, not facing anything remotely threatening. Every time he thought he was ready he'd have another terrifying, paralysing nightmare and would find himself three steps back from where he'd been the day before. Perhaps it was time to grow some back struts.

"But maybe I should be out there." Prowl and Optimus both held their breaths, waiting. "Part of ma job ain't it? Sortin' out bots problems. Primus knows Prowl ain't no good at it 'n ya too busy Optimus." Both of the others mechs nodded slightly in agreement and Jazz continued, keeping his voice steady. "Maybe I should see these culprits, sort this out… sort maself out."

"It's your decision, Jazz." Optimus watched his third in command.

The black helm dipped slightly before Jazz expelled a large whoosh of air.

'_Jazz t' Ironhide.'_

'_Jazz! Primus ya scared the plates off me.'_

'_Can ya come t' med bay?'_

'_On my way.'_

Jazz met Prowl's optics as he ended the comm. connection and saw pride and reassurance there, all tinged with worry that Jazz knew the other black and white was trying to hide for him.

"Do you want me to stay for this?"

The saboteur shook his head at Optimus. "Best not make it look like it's a formal warnin'."

"All right." Optimus stood, nodding at Jazz. "It was good to see you, Jazz. Don't let it be too long before it happens again."

The black and white smiled. "I won't."

Optimus turned to leave, laying one hand on Prowl's shoulder as he left. "Will you be able to handle Ironhide? I know you two haven't been on the best terms recently."

Prowl tilted his head to the side. "I am his superior officer and if he, even in the slightest, upsets Jazz I'm going to hand him his skidplates." Prowl could have sworn Optimus smiled broadly then, but as always the expression was limited to his optics; something made him add, "And then leave him to Ratchet."

Optimus made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a chuckle, but he was on the move again before Prowl could be sure. The SIC stepped back to let the med bay doors close again but Jazz's voice stopped him. "Leave 'em open."

Prowl shot Jazz a look over his shoulder. The doors had been a constant source of fear to Jazz, with the element of the unknown beyond them. Jazz knew that it was only the rest of the Ark beyond, but in moments of confusion and memories, they were simply something else that could lead back to the Decepticons. Prowl saw the look of shaky determination on Jazz's face and remained where he was, stopping the doors sliding shut.

Whilst Jazz didn't move any closer, he didn't try and edge away either. He studied what he could see of the corridor beyond and Prowl could see his mouth moving ever so slightly as he talked to himself. The tactician had a fair idea of what mantra Jazz was repeating, one of self reassurance, to help him remain focus on the positive, but Prowl was also aware that Jazz would have been struggling twice as hard if Prowl had not been blocking most of the view.

"Prowl."

The black and white mech turned his head away from Jazz to see Ironhide striding down the corridor. The weapons specialist hesitated before he came abreast of Prowl, optics glancing at the open med bay doors. Prowl nodded once at him, holding up his hand. "Ironhide… Jazz, are you ready?"

"Yeah, suppose…"

Prowl felt his doorwings stiffen slightly at the undercurrent of tension in Jazz's voice, and from the look of perturbation on Ironhide's face as he heard it too, but he stepped to one side. Ironhide glanced at the doors, straightened his shoulders, realised what he'd done and tried to look smaller. The SIC watched Ironhide fidget for a moment before the red mech gave him a helpless look, forcing Prowl to look away. He couldn't offer Ironhide advice about how to approach Jazz, not with him in audioshot. Ironhide swallowed down his indecision and stepped into the med bay.

Jazz stared at the boxy red mech, mental images rushing through his CPU before he settled, seeing only a similarity to Ratchet and no Con. Out of the corner of his vision he could see Prowl shift, badly concealed anxiety on his face plates and Jazz forced himself to stop trembling. For Prowl.

"Ironhide."

"Jazz." The big mech relaxed visibly. "I… well, how ya doing?"

"Better." Jazz shrugged one shoulder in a not completely laid-back motion. "I've just seen Optimus."

"Can I ask why ya wanted to see me next?" Ironhide asked, frowning. "I know I can't be who ya want to see most."

Jazz rubbed a hand over his neck in a slightly nervous gesture. "Retribution."

Ironhide's frown deepened for a moment before he realised what Jazz was hinting towards. "I did nothing those stinkin' Cons didn't have coming."

"Maybe." Jazz tried not to flinch when Ironhide mentioned the Decepticons. "But ya know we don't go around seekin' revenge on everythin' that happens. We'd be no better than them."

"Everything that happens!" Ironide's voice rose sharply and Jazz instinctively pressed closer to the berth, away from the noise. "I saw what those slaggers did to ya and ya saying they didn't deserve it?"

"Ironhide!" Prowl snapped, voice hard.

The red mech glanced at him and then back at Jazz. Suddenly he seemed to notice the change in the saboteur and dropped his head. "I'm sorry."

"S'alright," Jazz replied after a shaky moment. "Just stay in line 'n make sure the others do too. I don't wanna get out of here n' have a mess on ma hands."

Ironhide nodded. The effect of seeing Jazz cringe away from his broke his anger completely. "I'll make sure, but… ya can't say ya don't want revenge?"

Jazz didn't answer, just stared at a spot somewhere in the middle distance and Prowl firmly ushered Ironhide out the doors, shutting them behind him this time. He took his time turning back around to Jazz and only approached him when the smaller black and white sighed, sitting himself back down on the berth.

"Prowl, is it wrong of meh t' want revenge?"

Prowl blinked rapidly. "Jazz, no. Primus no, of course not."

"It's just when Hide said that, I couldn't think of what I would do, ya know? I can't get angry." Jazz stared down at his hands.

Prowl hesitated, wondering if it would be right to say what had sprang to mind and decided, uncharacteristically, to go with his instincts. "You don't have to get angry. When we were leaving the Nemesis, in the middle of the fight, I saw Megatron and all I wanted to do was hurt him, but I would have had to let you go to do that and you're more important than my anger. You have to do what feels right."

Jazz had listened, though it took him a while to process it, since he had frozen at the Decepticon leader's name. He nodded slowly, understanding but still introspective and pensive.

"It's difficult," Prowl continued. "Really, you weren't there for that long, though it certainly felt like forever to me."

"Time was all wrong there. I couldn't keep track… Soun… Soun…" Jazz shook his head violently. "Soundwave."

Prowl nodded, trying to encourage Jazz to talk about it, but the saboteur lapsed into an troubled quiet. As the silence grew longer Prowl suddenly wanted to break it, feeling uneasy, like he had said the wrong thing.

"Well, that went better than I thought it would," Prowl commented, sitting down next to Jazz.

Jazz let the other black and white pull him from his thoughts. "I feel like I deserve summat nice after that."

"What had you in mind?"

Prowl saw the way Jazz's visor flashed and had an instant to wonder what he was up to before he was opening up his comms. again.

'_Jazz t' Sunstreaker.'_

'_What?'_

'_Get ya aft over t' the med bay.'_

'_Is this some new way of Ratchet getting me in there?'_

'_I'm askin', not Ratch'.'_

'_Fine.'_

"Sunstreaker?" Prowl asked, both optic ridges raised.

Jazz gestured down at himself, or more accurately, at his mismatched paint job and bare metal panels and Prowl understood. It was one more reminder to do away with but even so, Jazz was more than capable of repainting himself.

"But Sunstreaker isn't exactly…" Prowl chose his next words hesitantly. "Careful with what he says or does."

Jazz shot him a black look. "'N maybe it's time I tried summat harder."

Prowl held out his hands in a pacifying gesture. "I'm not saying you shouldn't, just…"

"Ya worry. I know." Jazz gestured sweepingly to the med bay with one hand. "I know I'm safe here 'n even if I can't go out there yet, least I can do is get other mechs in here." He gave Prowl a pointed look. "Even if they are Sunstreaker."

-

Word was soon out that Jazz was seeing more visitors and suddenly Prowl had guard duty on the med bay doors. Even Ratchet's explosive temper wasn't enough to keep them away for long and Optimus was forced to find an answer, in the form of a first come, first serve, schedule. After some good natured mayhem around the base, everyone settled down.

Prowl limited Jazz to three mechs a day, just so that he wouldn't overwhelm himself, even though Jazz protested he could manage more and that his days were getting boring. Blaster soon solved that by bring Jazz his music. After a few aborted starts at some wrong choices in song, Jazz soon settled down, but whilst he may have been enjoying a partial return to normality and Prowl could, through practice, ignore the thudding bass, Ratchet was promising new ways to reformat Blaster into a toaster.

It wasn't that Ratchet begrudged Jazz his happiness, but he would be grateful, so slagging grateful, when Jazz went back to his own quarters. Between the 'music', Prowl's insistence that he not throw his tools in his direction - fragger - and the constant traffic to his former sanctuary of the med bay, Ratchet was on the verge of carrying through his promise of reformatting on the next poor unfortunate spark that walked through the door. What he did do was discuss, though Prowl would have called it an ultimatum, Prowl relocating Jazz to his own quarters.

The tactician agreed as it had already become accepted fact, rather than just rumour, that Prowl recharged wherever Jazz did. The second in command found he didn't care that everyone knew; Jazz's welfare was by far the most important factor.

Prowl glanced at the mech curled at his side, deep in recharge. The tactician had taken to working in bed so Jazz could sleep with Prowl at his side. He wouldn't otherwise, not until sheer exhaustion forced him too, and Ratchet hadn't needed to tell Prowl that was not conducive to Jazz's recovery. Not only that, but this was their first night back in their quarters, Prowl's to be exact. The saboteur had grown use to the med bay in his extended stay, accepting it was safe, but to go beyond its doors was to go somewhere unknown. Persuading him otherwise hadn't been easy and had involved some measure of threat from Prowl, who had stood on the other side of the door and refused to come back to Jazz.

Prowl had hated forcing Jazz to do what he was clearly terrified of, but he couldn't mollycoddle the smaller black and white all the way through his recovery. He had let Jazz cling to him all the way back to his quarters and had slowly let him explore them again. It hadn't taken long for it all to overwhelm Jazz and he had tiredly crawled onto the berth, still clinging to Prowl, before dropping into recharge.

Prowl was using these times to keep up with his paperwork and was deeply engrossed in a report from an American oil representative, worried they weren't getting enough protection from Decepticon attacks. Prowl took on these duties so Optimus could worry about the actual war and not its casualties here on earth, but the reports were time consuming and really quite boringly repetitive.

Prowl wasn't sure if he missed the warning signs or whether Jazz's plaintive whimper was the start of the nightmare, but he dropped the report instantly, hearing it clatter away off the bed. Gently he laid hands on Jazz's shoulder and helm, listening for a clue to the content of the nightmare. Different terrors had to be dealt with a variety of approaches.

"…No… don't… ya can't…"

Prowl stroked Jazz's helm. "Jazz, I'm here and you're safe."

Jazz hands curled up into fists and began beating against Prowl's thigh as his nightmare intensified. Prowl changed his grip, clasping his hands together in his. Sometimes Jazz had hurt himself, or Prowl, in his sleep and Prowl had learnt early on to minimise the risk.

"…Stop! Please stop!"

Prowl unceremoniously shoved the feelings developing in his CPU to one side and carefully lifted Jazz up to rest against him fully, catching his wrists up together in one hand against his shoulder. The other stroked Jazz's helm.

"Jazz, shush, nothing's happening. It's just another dream."

"…Prowl!" the smaller mech's voice was anguished.

"Jazz, I'm here."

"No! Don't! Leave him alone! Prowl!"

Prowl froze for a split second before shaking Jazz, almost too roughly, in order to break the dream sequence before it truly spun out of control. Jazz snapped awake with a sharp gasp and his gaze darted around before he saw Prowl. He visibly relaxed and pulled one hand free of Prowl's grip to touch the grey face staring at him with barely concealed worry.

"Ya alright… I dreamt they had ya 'n…"

"It was just a dream."

Prowl knew who they were and exactly what Jazz had been terrorised with. He shuttered his optics and leant into Jazz's soft hand. He had never told Jazz that he would have given the universe to be in his lover's place at the enemy's hands rather than have to be the one to endure this agony. The tactician felt Jazz shift and opened his optics when lips slowly pressed to his. With tenderness he kissed Jazz back, not deepening the kiss nor needing to.

Jazz settled back down against him after a moment, snuggling his head against Prowl's shoulder and Prowl held him close, glad that tonight he didn't have to talk Jazz's terrors away. Most nights Jazz needed convincing that he was safe and the Decepticons were not about to burst through the door to take him. Nightmares where Prowl suffered, though Jazz claimed to hate them more, Prowl preferred because Jazz coped much better once he was awake.

"Prowl?"

"Yes, Jazz?"

"Will ya bond with meh?"

Prowl felt all his systems stop in shock and Jazz sat up when he heard no answer was forth coming. One black and white met the other's optics and stuttered, "Wh…what?"

"I want t' bond t' ya," Jazz repeated. "I need it, Prowl. That reassurance. Ma nightmares would stop 'cause ya'd always be here." A black hand pressed to a blue striped chest. "I want t' feel safe again, Prowl. I need t' be meh again, need t' be useful, not this…"

Prowl felt his CPU grind into action again and belatedly realised what Jazz had asked. "Bond?... I…"

Jazz stared at him searchingly and Prowl couldn't meet his optics, dropping his own optics down to his hands. Black ones curled around his and he squeezed them tight.

"Jazz, I would love to bond with you more than anything in the world."

"But…" Jazz heard the unfinished end of that sentence.

"I don't want to bond with you just because you want to end your nightmares, not just for that." Prowl looked up then, trying to convey what he was feeling to his berth partner. "I want to bond with you because you love me like I love you."

"Prowl…" This time it was Jazz who couldn't hold that sincere gaze.

"I know you don't love me, not yet perhaps, and that is all right. I never wanted to rush you into anything." Prowl willed the smaller black and white to understand.

"But ya don't want t' bond with meh," Jazz replied in a small, defeated voice.

"Jazz, I…."

The saboteur interrupted. "No, it's okay, Prowl. I understand."

With that Jazz laid back down on the berth, curled up on his side and initiated his recharge cycle again. Prowl was left staring at his empty hands, wondering if he'd made the right decision. What he had said was true and he didn't want Jazz to go into this bonding like it was his only chance of a normal life. He needed Jazz to understand that Prowl would only ever choose one mech to be with forever and that Jazz was it. Prowl could only hope that it would be the same for Jazz one day.

-

**A/N:** *ducks bricks and popcorn* Don't hurt me... or Prowl!


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

**Notes:** Finally! It has taken me what seems like forever to get this chapter finished. Jazz and Prowl were not co-operating in the slightest, with just one scene. After this there's just one more chapter and then all shall be done. Thanks to Loten for betaing again.

-

Weeks went by. Jazz never broached the subject with Prowl again and Prowl was at a loss as to what to do about it, but he sensed he should. Jazz was somehow different, but Prowl couldn't explain how. They still shared his quarters and Jazz was confident enough to walk around the Ark with company. He still couldn't manage it by himself, though he could cope if he was by himself in his quarters. The saboteur began to pick up his duties again, mostly confining himself to reports and meetings. It had taken a few attempts but he could now read a report full of Decepticon names and remain calm, in control and able to continue to process the information.

They had tried monitor duty, but that hadn't ended well when the Decepticons had picked that joor to attack the Ark. Jazz had spent the next orn locked in his quarters with Prowl gradually persuading him that the Decepticons would never reach him here. What he didn't tell Jazz was what the other Autobots regularly reported: The Decepticons were asking after Jazz, taunting their enemies. His non-appearance on the battlefield had been noticed and his extended absence was picked up on by the Decepticons, who used it to rile the Autobots on a regular basis.

The others, having learnt what they could say and do around Jazz, had fallen back into their former easy companionship with him, though sometimes it was hard not to mention all the things the Decepticons were doing and Jazz had noticed. It was war time after all, and what else did you talk about, but the enemy?

As the saboteur gained more confidence, gradually easing back to who he had once been, he had begun to touch upon the memories from his time aboard the Nemesis. To start with he had only talked to Prowl about them, stuttering and stumbling his way through the pain and chaos, but Jazz was almost desperate not to rely on Prowl quite as much. Since returning to the Ark they had shared nothing more than a few chaste kisses and whilst Jazz completely understood why - Prowl was doing his best for Jazz - the smaller black and white was beginning to feel they had lost what had made their relationship special in the first place.

"I don't feel like we're playin' on an equal footin' anymore, ya know?"

His companion grunted, blue optics watching him with sharp intensity.

"I know he loves meh, I know this is meant t' be for ma own good, but slag, I miss him, miss us."

"Then tell him."

Jazz's shoulders slumped. "Ya know he'd just explain why we shouldn't, 'n he'd be right."

"You're right too. You complain about the relationship not being equal, but unless you say something, you're doing nothing to solve the problem."

"I can't." Jazz clenched his hands in frustration. "I'd rather have this than fight with him." The other mech shifted in his seat and Jazz shot him a piercing look. "'N ya not t' say a thing, ya hear?"

"I'll do what I slagging well please," came the snapped reply. "Prowl isn't a mind reader and he's the worst mech around when it comes to guessing the emotional outcomes of what he does. Do something, Jazz, or stop whining. Once, you wouldn't have dreamed of doing this."

"Ya never did play well with the other younglin's did ya?"

Another grunt.

"Jazz!"

The black and white looked up to see Blaster coming through the rec room doors and waved him over. The other mech at the table stood up.

"Ya don't have t' go," Jazz protested.

"No, but you know what I've got to say." He glanced up at Blaster. "Maybe you can persuade him he's being denser than Screamer."

With that the other mech strode away, not apologising for the use of Starscream's name and the answering flinch from Jazz. Blaster slid into the vacated seat.

"What was that about?"

Jazz pushed his undrunk energon across the table to Blaster before answering, "Prowl 'n me."

Blaster tilted his head slightly. "I thought you guys were solid, man."

"Solid 'n completely missin' the spark," Jazz sighed. "I don't know, Blaster, I mean I know I'm different, n' all, but I feel like I'm bein' punished or summat."

"Punished, cause you're not getting any?" Blaster asked, vague amusement in his tone.

Jazz's finger traced a circle round and round on the table top. "I asked him t' bond with meh 'n he said no."

"Whoa, man, that's intense!" Blaster stared at him and Jazz could feel his shock. He didn't need to look up to see it. "Slag, how come he said no?"

"Said he wanted meh t' love him like he loves meh…"

A deep frowned creased the red mech's face. "But you do love him."

"…yeah…"

"You haven't told have you?"

Jazz smiled sheepishly. "I keep meanin' t' 'n then I can't do it."

"Frag, I can't believe it," Blaster muttered.

"Believe what?

"Sunstreaker was right! You are being denser than a con's skid plates!"

Jazz laughed good naturedly and Blaster grinned at him before jumping topic onto a new human band that they both listened to. The saboteur went along with it, even though he could feel the disquiet inside. Blaster was right, slag, _Sunstreaker_ was right, he was being an idiot, but he didn't want to fight with Prowl. That didn't seem right, not after all Prowl had given up for him, done for him to help him get over this. It would almost be like slapping him in the face and all because he was trying to do what was right.

All Jazz could think of to do was become more self reliant or, at the very least, become more reliant on others, rather than Prowl. Then, maybe, the tactician would see that as progress, and start treating Jazz like he had before.

-

Prowl sorted through the datapads on his desk. No one took any notice of his carefully labelled trays, except Optimus, Jazz and Ratchet, and considering he was looking for a report from Ironhide, then it was bound to be on the bottom of the wrong stack.

Eventually he found it, read through it, signed it and then set off to Optimus' office with it. He was perhaps half way there when Sunstreaker appeared, coming the opposite way down the corridor towards him. Prowl greeted him politely, expecting the usual monosyllabic response. What he got completely threw him. Sunstreaker stopped dead in front of him, effectively blocking the corridor, with a large scowl marring his face plates.

"You're a slagging idiot." Sunstreaker stabbed one finger into his chest.

Prowl blinked. "I beg your pardon?"

"You love Jazz, right?" The yellow twin didn't pause for Prowl to answer, finger still jabbing away. "He asked you to bond with him and you said no. You said no because you're scared he doesn't love you, and you know what? That's the fragging stupidest thing I've heard in a long time!"

"Sunstreaker…"

"No, you listen." The finger rose to Prowl's face. "He wouldn't have asked you for something so monumentally serious if he didn't honestly consider spending his life with you."

"Do you really think he's putting that over his current state?" Prowl asked, finding the questions bubbling up to his CPU from his buried worries. Some part of his mind protested that a ranking officer didn't talk to a subordinate about another officer and his own personal life. The other part overrode it with worry for Jazz.

Sunstreaker snorted inelegantly. "Give him some credit, Prowl. He may be battered, he may have had even more of his belief in this war trampled on, but he's still Jazz, for Primus' sake. He wouldn't be head of Special Ops and third in command without having some inner strength to go with it. You've done a brilliant job of shielding him through his recovery."

"You made that sound like a bad thing," Prowl protested.

"It's not." Sunstreaker stared at him hard. "For the most part. If he hadn't been through all this slag and he'd asked you to bond with him, would have?"

"I…" Prowl dropped his head. "I don't know."

"But you sure as pit would have given it more thought," Sunstreaker accused. "And you know what else?"

"You're not finished?" Prowl asked weakly, feeling more and more guilty as Sunstreaker hammered home truths he'd been ignoring.

"Jazz slagging deserves you to give up your spark for him."

"What?" Prowl's head shot up. "Are you saying I haven't given enough up for him?"

Sunstreaker pulled a face, part sneer, part grimace. "Pit knows why, but you two work together and if he saw how much you love him then you'd fit together even more. I don't get what the problem is, you're only bonding."

"Only?" Prowl's optic ridges rose sharply.

"Don't forget, I don't know what it's like_ not_ to be bonded, in a way." Sunstreaker's fist thudded down onto his chest. "I can't imagine what it would be like not to have someone share that part of you and I don't want to. It's got to be slagging lonely."

Prowl felt those words make sharp crystal sense, all of a sudden. "Sunstreaker…"

"Yeah, I know," the yellow frontliner interrupted. "Brig time for being insubordinate."

As he stepped past him to head down to the cells the SIC stopped him with one hand. "Thank you."

Sunstreaker met his optics before giving him a sharp nod and striding off. Prowl stood in the corridor for some time, his mind filled with questions and confusion. One thing rung true though; Jazz did deserve his spark. He wouldn't give it to anybot else, of that he was certain, and if Jazz asked for it, then he should have his spark. It wasn't like he was demanding it as a proof of Prowl's love, or for any malicious intentions. He had only asked for it to be reassured and comforted by the one mech he knew loved him more than anything else. Why had he refused?

Prowl shuddered. How could he have turned Jazz down? It was such a cold-sparked thing to do. Jazz was hurting and he could have stopped it! The datapad in his hand cracked sharply as Prowl clenched his hand and the sound shocked him back to the real world. He glanced down at the datapad, his next course of action suddenly making itself clear to him. First stop, Optimus, hand over the report and then request personal leave.

The SIC felt a jolt of guilt at that. He hadn't shouldered his full load of work since Jazz had been rescued, but Optimus had never complained, understanding that Jazz was more important. To go and ask him for more time off, that pushed heavily against Prowl's innate sense of duty, and he promised he would make it up to his leader once he had done what he should have done with Jazz.

With ground eating strides he hurried up the corridor to Optimus' office, knocked on the door, and slipped inside when he was told to come in. The red mech looked up from his work and nodded at Prowl as he handed over the datapad.

"Thank you, Prowl."

"Sir, I would like to request the next few days off as personal leave for Jazz and myself," Prowl stated without preamble.

Optimus slowly sat back in his chair. "Of course, but may I ask why? Jazz seems to be progressing well and his reintegration into the crew is helping, or so Ratchet informs me."

Prowl nodded. "Yes it is, but this is on a more personal level… He asked me to do something for him and I …refused. I have come to realise I shouldn't have done so."

Optimus' optics narrowed slightly, but he accepted Prowl's explanation. "Very well. I take it you'll be informing Jazz of this change?"

"Yes sir." Prowl nodded and was then dismissed. As he stepped outside the office he saw Blaster and Jazz entering the monitor room together, talking amicably. He froze. Jazz didn't like going into the monitor room, not when he couldn't control what could be shown on the screens, but there he was, doing just that, without Prowl. Was he so much better? Sunstreaker's words came back to him.

Curiosity and, perhaps, a little bit of jealousy prompted Prowl to follow them into the monitor room, where he stood just inside the doorway, silent and watching. Blaster had seated himself down in front of the monitors, running checks across the system. Jazz was leaning cautiously against the bank of screens, listening to his friend talk, but Prowl could see the way he never took his optics off the monitors.

"Aww, slag," Blaster suddenly said, fist thudding down. "I forgot my card. You watch 'em for me whilst I go get it?"

"Err, yeah, suppose." Jazz shifted on his feet.

Blaster shot him a grin, swivelled in his seat and shot out the door. Prowl met his optics as he left and the red mech gave him a thumbs up as he flashed past. The SIC blinked, having thought no one knew he was there. Jazz clearly hadn't realised as he hesitantly sat down and gazed up at the screens. A little bit of irrational fear for Jazz blurred his processors for a moment, but it was just enough time for his mouth open and words to come tumbling out. "Jazz, you aren't well enough to do this alone."

The smaller black and white jumped in his seat, swinging the seat around. "Primus, Prowl! Near gave meh a spark attack."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."

Jazz shook his head before he stopped mid motion. Prowl watched his head come up before he spoke, but when he did the tone was mildly accusatory. "Who says I ain't well 'nough?"

"I…" Prowl fumbled for an answer that wasn't demeaning. "I was just concerned, as the last time you tried monitor duty…"

"The slaggin' cons attacked!" Jazz snapped, interrupting. "Yeah, well I can't hide in the Ark for the rest o' ma life can I! 'N ya know what? I can't get back t' being meh with you hoverin' over meh like some mother hen!"

Prowl blinked, startled by the vehemence in Jazz's voice. "I'm sorry Jazz, I had not realised I was inhibiting your recovery."

Jazz slumped back into his seat abruptly. "Ah man, I'm the one that should be sayin' sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

"If it's how you feel, then you should be telling me such things." The tactician stepped slowly across the floor until he was at Jazz's side, where he knelt down so he could see the down cast face. "You do not lose your temper easily and clearly you feel strongly about this."

Jazz shifted in his seat awkwardly. "Nah, it's okay, Prowl, really. I mean, I guess I'm just tired o' bein' second guessed all the time."

Gently white hands entwined themselves with black before Prowl spoke up again. "Jazz, we need to talk. There are things you want to say to me and there is something I need to tell you."

The saboteur looked up then, a miserable expression on his face. "I don't want t' fight, Prowl."

"I know." A small smile curved up one side of his mouth. "And I did say talk, not fight."

Jazz gave him a smile in return and then glanced back at the monitors. "Blaster asked meh t' watch 'em for him."

"Blaster also set us up," Prowl explained. "Also, it's _his_ shift, not yours. The monitors are his responsibility this joor."

Jazz tried to argue, but the other black and white was having none of it, and insistently led Jazz out of the room. The journey back to their quarters was taken in silence; Jazz wasn't really sure he wanted to be going anyway and Prowl was turning over ways to start this difficult conversation over in his CPU. 'I'm an aft, forgive me,' kept springing to mind, but he was pretty sure that he wouldn't be able to continue from there.

The moment the door to Jazz's quarters had closed behind them the saboteur sank down onto his berth to stare nowhere but his clasped hands. It hurt Prowl to see Jazz dreading the upcoming conversation like this, but it also made it easier for him talk. There were no optics watching him, showing him all that hurt and pain that would make him unable to do anything but offer comfort.

"I know you don't want to do this, but I have some things that I need to say and so do you."

"We're really doin' this?" Jazz sighed. "In that case, I wanna go first. I shouldn't have said what I did 'fore, 'cause I know ya've had nothin' but ma best interest at spark. I'm not angry at ya, it's meh that I hate."

"Jazz…" Prowl frowned. "Why would you hate yourself?"

"'Cause I can't seem t' take those final steps without somebot t' help meh, 'n more often 'n not it's ya 'n I can't help but feel this isn't the relationship that either of us wanted. If I was a little stronger then I could break out o' this cycle 'n I wouldn't want t' hate ya for simply helpin'."

"Any relationship has its ups and downs, but through them all we're there for each other. I don't resent you for taking your time to recover. I want you to be strong again and I know that is about taking the time to do it right." Prowl spread his hands wide.

Jazz glanced up then. "Ya don't miss the physical side o' it?"

Prowl looked away. "Of course I do, but there are more… I didn't want to push you into anything, and I… Jazz… I tried to make the right decisions for us, for you. Back at the beginning, when you were barely lucid, I had to make those choices without you and I guess I've just kept doing it. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have."

"It's all right, Prowl. Ya were just lookin' out for meh 'n we've both settled into t' these roles. I coulda said summat, but I just didn't wanna fight. Ya were more important than that." There was a pause as Jazz stared at his hands again, before he whispered, "I guess I was scared o' losin' ya, 'n that would kill meh. In _that place_, I always had nightmares that they had ya 'n were hurtin' ya n' all I had t' do t' stop it was tell 'em what they wanted."

"Optimus wouldn't let me out of the base for that very reason. He said our relationship presented the Decepticons with too good an opportunity if they caught me as well," Prowl admitted before saying softly, "Jazz, I can't explain your fears away. Fears don't make any sense. To know what it's like, I guess you've got to go through it."

"Prowl…"

"No Jazz, let me finish." The tactician held up one hand. "It doesn't matter. I'll love you whatever. Will you bond with me?"

This time Jazz looked up, almost backing away on the berth, a desperate look on his face. "Prowl, don't. Don't ask, just 'cause ya feel like ya should t' help meh. Ya were right. We shouldn't bond 'cause o' what I fear."

"If your fears could only be forgotten," Prowl whispered, raising his hands to the other mech, slowly stepping closer, "We could pull all the barriers down between us and you could see, feel how much I love you, how truly safe you are."

Jazz wavered. Prowl could see the indecision written through every inch of him and stepped closer, taking that final chance. "You were right, Jazz. I should never have denied you. I can keep you safe and give you what you need."

"Prowl!" The smaller mech threw himself into Prowl's arms, hugging him as close as their chassis would allow. The tactician held him close, hands stroking over his back and helm, a small smile on his face. "Prowl, I…" Jazz forced himself back a little, looking up, an almost scared expression on his face. "There's summat I should have told ya, a long time ago."

Prowl watched him, calm but expectant and Jazz beat his fears down. "I love ya."

"You…"

"I love ya," Jazz repeated, voice firmer this time. It felt good to say those three little words.

"Jazz…" Prowl breathed. "You love me? Truly?"

"I should have told ya before, when I asked ya t' bond with meh, but I was too scared," the saboteur admitted.

"Then," Prowl stated resolutely, "You were right."

Jazz looked vaguely startled before a beaming smile lit up his face, making it twice as stunning, and Prowl had to press a kiss to those curved lips. Jazz responded immediately and that passion, that fire that Jazz had feared dead, flared into hot, burning life. Prowl had Jazz pressed back onto the berth before he could form a thought and the saboteur wrenched his head away with a gasp of pleasure as one of those clever white hands stroked his back under his roof.

"Prowl , ya…" Jazz gripped his shoulders, fingers scraping over the tyres. "I wanna say summat."

The tactician shook his head. "So beautiful…"

"_Prowl!_"

The SIC couldn't help but smile as he made Jazz arch up underneath him. There was something in that moment that made every little dream possible, every little hurt worth the pain. He had Jazz, no one else was ever going to take him away from him again and he was going to prove that to him by offering up his spark. Jazz had been right before.

One white hand traced the edge of the blue stripe running down the centre of Jazz's chest with utter gentleness. It was as though he could feel the spark underneath calling to his and Prowl knew that once they were bonded there would be nothing that would separate them. He would be there for Jazz no matter what.

"I love you with all my spark and being, Jazz."

Jazz smiled up at Prowl as he spoke those soft words, replying in kind, "'N I love ya with all ma spark 'n being."

The world was lost to them. From that moment on there was only each other. That was the sphere of their senses. Both were contented to let the sensations rush over them because they were in no hurry now. Each took time and the utter most care to explore and relearn the other. They knew what was to come and that they would be bonded before the day was done.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

**Notes:** So this is it guys. It's been a great run and I've got to say thanks to everyone's who's reviews, faved and put this story on alert. It means a lot to me! Hope you guys like this chapter (I've been told it was cute by my beta!).

_Italics – comms_

**Bold – spark speak**

**-**

"Prowl?"

Prowl glanced up at his bonded who hung in the doorway, a hopeful look on his face plates. The SIC hid a smile. "Ask."

"Can we go for a drive? I'm sick of bein' inside," Jazz pouted.

Prowl buried the surge of apprehension. Jazz had been outside the Ark before, just not for very long or very far, before his nerves got the better of him.

"If you're sure."

Jazz nodded. "If ya'll come with meh."

Prowl did smile then and tossed down a datapad. "I should be off-shift anyway."

"I know." Jazz grinned and Prowl accompanied him down the corridors to the base entrance, where Jazz stretched and glanced around before transforming down into his Porsche mode and revving his engine at Prowl playfully.

Prowl shook his head, transformed and floored it, leaving Jazz in his wake momentarily, before the faster sports car caught him up and nudged him gently. It was a thank you, of sorts, but neither of them said anything as they continued to drive away from the Ark. They headed up into the wooded mountains by silent consensus and Prowl stayed by Jazz's side on the road, even though that meant him driving on the wrong side of the road. He would willingly break the rules if it meant keeping Jazz happy.

A little bit of amusement filtered through the bond and Jazz opened up comms in curiosity.

'_Care t' share?'_

'_I was thinking how, since we bonded, I seem to be more willing to break the rules than before.'_

'_Course y'are. Ya know I break the rules all the time so it was bound t' rub off onto ya.'_

'_You just don't get caught.'_

'_'Cause I'm the best.'_

'_It just seems to be causing some consternation amongst the crew.'_

'_Ya fair gave Sides a spark attack when ya asked him for some o' his contraband high-grade.'_

'_I think the fact that I drank it in front of him made the situation worse.'_

Laughter echoed over the comm. and through the bond as Jazz remembered the look of the red twins face. Prowl felt a sense of satisfaction settle into his CPU. He had made Jazz relax enough, outside and away from the Ark, to laugh properly and he let Jazz pull away from him a little. The tactician could feel the way Jazz was relishing the speed; the flow of the wind over his frame, the rubble of the road beneath his tyres and the truly satisfying feeling of pushing his engine like it hadn't been tested in nearly a meta-cycle.

Jazz could sense the way Prowl kept his sensors on him, could feel him watching his emotions through the bond, but he didn't mind. He knew it was just the way Prowl was still caring for him. Also Jazz felt too slagging good to be bothered about it at the moment. Frag, he had missed the thrill of a fast drive, and to have his bonded along for the ride just made it perfect.

Wanting to test himself a little more, Jazz turned off the main road and onto a dirt track that wound up the side of the mountain, cutting through the trees. The loose surface made the tight corners trickier but Jazz barely slowed, really wanting to see if he had lost his edge. Prowl had fallen back a little, driving far more sensibly over the rougher terrain, but he never let Jazz get out of sight either. Pebbles squirted out from under Jazz's tyres, falling away down the mountain side. The white sides of the cars were turning brown as the dry dust rose and Prowl was forced to increase the rate at which his air filtration system was working, caught behind Jazz as he was.

Jazz eventually stopped when they reached a secluded little plateau. He swerved dramatically to a halt, transforming as he did so; he did a complete 360 on his pedes, coming to a stop with a satisfied smile on his face. Prowl stopped much more sedately and transformed without any extra palaver.

"Primus, have I missed this." Jazz tipped his head back, spreading his arms out. "The sun here makes a drive twice as good."

"That was more like a race," Prowl commented dryly.

"Ah Prowler, it's only a race if there's two o' ya in it." Jazz flashed him a grin.

"In which I would not stand a chance."

"I'd even the odds," Jazz promised.

"How exactly would you do that?" Prowl asked, one optic ridge quirking upwards.

"I could drive backwards. That'd help ya…"

The roar of jet engines silenced Jazz's words and a look of horror slowly transformed his face. Prowl clenched his hands into fists and glared up at the sky as a trine of jets appeared overhead, circling their position. The jets showed themselves to be seekers by transforming mid air and thudding down around them in a loose circle. Prowl deliberately put himself between them and Jazz as best he could.

"Look what we have here!" Starscream jeered. "Our little saboteur has come out to play at last."

"Touch him and it'll be the last thing you ever do," Prowl warned, voice low.

"We outnumber you, three to one," Starscream scoffed. "You're at our mercy Autoboob."

"I don't think so," Prowl replied an instant before launching himself at the Air Commander, tackling the surprised Decepticon to the ground. Starscream honestly hadn't expected Prowl to make the first move and the Autobot landed a few good blows in before Starscream gathered his wits together to fight back. Skywarp and Thundercracker watched for a moment, taken aback, until Skywarp remembered the other occupant of the clearing and his red optics landed on the frozen saboteur opposite him.

"Well, well, well," Skywarp smiled. "Come on Thundercracker, let's have some fun."

"Not my idea of fun," Thundercracker replied and Skywarp turned to him. The blue seeker waved a hand at his friend before sitting down to watch the scuffle between Starscream and Prowl, pulling a small cube of energon out of a subspace pocket. He, apparently, wasn't going to help anyone. Skywarp shrugged and returned his attention to Jazz.

Jazz struggled to think past the fear swamping his CPU as he realised he was face to face with a tormentor and alone to deal with it. He wanted to run, but he was frozen in place, legs locked, ability to transform lost in the panic. Everything he'd work so hard to achieve was falling apart at the mere sight of a Decepticon. Flashes of jumbled memory shot through his mind and phantom pain crackled through his body. The greens and browns of the world faded into purple and Jazz was moments from crumpling to the floor in terror.

As Skywarp stepped towards him Jazz suddenly felt something else, a feeling of utter belief and trust welling up from his spark. It pushed away the memories, replacing them with love and control. _Prowl._ Prowl was sending him those feelings through their bond, even in the midst of his fight with Starscream, and Jazz felt his strength returning. Skywarp didn't notice the change in his intended victim and continued to stalk towards him, a smile promising pain on his face. Jazz's hands curled into fists at his sides as everything the Decepticons had done to him flashed through his CPU, everything Skywarp had done, and the first real tendrils of anger flared up.

"C'mon little scaredy 'bot," Skywarp taunted. "You going to run away?"

"No," Jazz replied, surprised his voice sounded so steady. Surprised enough he said it again just to hear himself. "No."

Skywarp laughed. "So scared he can't even run away."

"No," Jazz repeated, voice quieter as his confidence grew. "Special Ops mechs don't run from a fight."

"Eh?" Skywarp frowned, not having heard him properly.

"'N I'm head of Special Ops," Jazz continued, head rising to meet Skywarp's stare.

"Enough of this slag already!" Skywarp launched himself at Jazz, fist sailing out towards his face.

Jazz neatly sidestepped, hand grabbing Skywarp's wrist as it went past, the other hand going under his arm. Using the seeker's own momentum against him he flipped Skywarp right over and smashed his head down into the floor. As the seeker lay dazed, Jazz quickly stripped him of his weapons, jabbing one in the back of his head and one pointing towards Thundercracker. The blue seeker snorted into his energon but did nothing else.

"Hey, Screamer," Jazz called.

There was a grunt and then Prowl kicked the Air Commander away from him, letting Jazz line him up in his sights. Prowl climbed to his feet, his own gun being pulled from subspace as he did so and placed the muzzle up against the side of Starscream's shoulder vent.

"I think I'm willing to overlook this pathetic excuse for an attack, if Jazz is." Prowl tapped the rifle against the red metal.

"I dunno Prowler, it seems a mighty shame t' let 'em go when we've got 'em," Jazz drawled.

Thundercracker sighed suddenly. "And I'll get all the heat if I go back without them."

"And why should we care about that?" Prowl asked, optics flicking his way momentarily.

The blue seeker nodded at Jazz. "Because I never joined in with the others. We're at war. Enjoyment is not meant to be part of it."

Prowl met Jazz's optics and the saboteur nodded slightly as Starscream screeched, "Thundercracker! You traitor! We'd never been in this position if you'd got off your aft and helped!"

"I shouldn't need to. Isn't that what Megatron would say if I told him how his second in command got his aft whooped by his opposite number, a flightless groundie?"

"Shut up! You can't talk to me like that! I'm your superior officer!"

"Some officer," Jazz smirked.

A groan announced Skywarp coming to his senses. Jazz pressed his own gun harder into his helm. "Nice 'n easy sunshine, or I'll give ya more aches t' go with that processor of yours."

Skywarp froze before he turned his head just a little to glance back at Jazz, who offered him a grin. The purple seeker mumbled something and his head thudded back down into the dirt. Thundercracker watched all this silently, ignoring the still protesting Starscream, before he clambered to his feet, aware of the way Skywarp's appropriated weapon followed him in Jazz's hand.

"You know what?" he abruptly interrupted his Air Commander. "Megatron might thank me if I let the Autobots capture you. He's been trying to get rid of your back stabbing aft for vorns."

Starscream stared at him, mouth hanging open. Skywarp cackled, whole body trembling as he laughed, and that was enough to kick Starscream's CPU into action.

"Shut up! Shut up!"

That just made Skywarp laugh harder. As the trine argued Prowl opened up the bond between him and Jazz a little more.

'**Jazz, we can't take them back.'**

'**I know they outnumber us, Prowler.'**

'**No, I meant, even if it was just one, the others would take advantage. It's too soon yet.'**

A surge of regret and understanding echoed down the bond, emanating from Jazz as he realised the truth of it. Whilst the others would not touch the Cons if they were ordered to, it was too great a risk that one of the seekers would say something stupid and be pounded into scrap by Autobots out for revenge.

"Thundercracker," Prowl interrupted Starscream's stream of insults. "Take your weapons off and thrown onto the ground between us." Thundercracker grimaced but did as he was instructed. "Now step back."

After the blue seeker had moved out of immediate range, Prowl shifted so that he was still covering Starscream but didn't get in the way of Jazz's line of sight on Thundercracker, to pick up the discarded weapons. They were slipped into subspace before he stepped back so that his back was to the road.

Jazz waited until he was done before he jabbed the end of Skywarp's weapons down into the back of his head hard enough to knock him out yet again. He then repeated the process on the mouthy Air Commander who followed Skywarp to lie face down in the dirt, before he stripped him of his weapons. Both seekers' weapons disappeared into subspace as Jazz joined Prowl.

Thundercracker sighed loudly before making a show of turning around and walking away in the opposite direction, hands visible at his sides. Prowl glanced at Jazz before they both transformed and peeled away from the plateau in a cloud of dust. They drove relatively quickly down the mountainside, though not at the speed Jazz had torn up it, and remained silent until they reached the main road.

'_Prowl.'_ Jazz voice was soft over the comm.. _'Thank ya.'_

'_You're welcome, Jazz, but you don't need to thank me. I didn't do anything.'_

'_Ya made meh believe in maself again 'n I couldn't have stood up t' Warp without you. The story would be a whole lot different if ya hadn't.'_

'_I made you a promise, Jazz,' _Prowl admitted. '_I promised they would never hurt you again. And I'm not going to see it broken.'_

'_Ya didn't tell me that.'_

'_You were in recharge at the time.'_

Jazz pulled up a little closer to his bondmate, nearly within touching distance of their wing mirrors, but said nothing else, just content enough to drive back to the Ark in silence. He even felt good enough not to be constantly scanning the skies behind them for signs of the seekers. In his spark he had this feeling he could take on the world with Prowl at his side, Decepticons included, though he suspected Prowl would tell him not to be quite so rash.

The tactician for his part was keeping his scanners on the sky. He hadn't spoken a word to Jazz about just how frightened he had been for Jazz's safety when the Seekers had appeared in the sky overhead. He'd kept the feeling under wraps when he'd felt Jazz's own all consuming terror, but even now, even with Jazz seeming so relaxed, Prowl felt he couldn't let his guard down. That promise would hold him to itself like restraints, but Prowl would gladly carry them, especially if it meant seeing Jazz back to his old self.

They transformed just inside the Ark and were heading inside when Jazz pulled an appropriated weapon from subspace to twirl around his hand. Prowl glanced at it and then at Jazz, who was wearing a cheeky grin.

"Wanna make a display?"

"I thought we were supposed to be discouraging 'trophies'?" Prowl raised one optic ridge.

Jazz's smile never faltered. "Ah c'mon Prowler, it'll be good for morale."

Prowl couldn't disagree and let Jazz direct their footsteps to the rec room. Jazz located an empty patch of wall, pulled out the rest of the weapons from subspace and then a tube of adhesive. The other black and white didn't ask why he had superglue on him, he only dug out Thundercracker's weapons and handed them over when Jazz asked for them.

By the time they were done, they had attracted quite a crowd of interested Autobots and when Jazz stepped back from the wall Wheeljack commented, "I count six Seeker weapons."

"Yeah." Jazz grinned. "Our favourite trine donated 'em t' a good cause."

"You ran into Starscream and co?" Bumblebee piped up, optics wide.

Jazz propped an arm up on Prowl's shoulder, leaning into him slightly as he answered. "We whupped their afts good. They'll be nursin' their bruises for awhile."

There was a small pause as the rest took in the news and the calm expressions on both black and whites face before a miniature eruption of cheers started. Jazz let himself be dragged away from Prowl as the questions started and Prowl folded his arms across his chest as he watched Jazz settle down into a seat with a wry smile.

"Is it true?" a deep voice asked from his side.

Prowl nodded. "Though I suspect Jazz might be embellishing the details a little. You'll have the report in by the end of the day."

"How did he really do?" Optimus never stopped watching his third in command.

"He froze, but then regained his footing. The rest was easy," Prowl replied calmly.

"No doubt thanks to your bond." Prowl glanced across and up at his leader with the question in his optics and Optimus smiled. "The difference between you is noticeable, if you're looking for it. Congratulations Prowl, you did what many thought might be beyond you."

"Bond?" Prowl sounded surprised.

"Bringing Jazz back to us." Optimus laid a hand on his shoulder briefly before he left the rec room.

Prowl watched him go before directing his attention back to Jazz, who was now mimicking Starscream for his audience, and let a smile grow over his face. The build up of contented happiness swelled through the bond, making Jazz glance at him and then smile blissfully.

'**Love you, Prowler.'**

'**I love you too, Jazz.'**


End file.
